


The P-Team and the Sorcerer's Stone

by ScarletMarieLeaf



Series: The P-Team Collection [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Fiction, Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 121,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletMarieLeaf/pseuds/ScarletMarieLeaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows about Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the Chosen one, the one to defeat You-Know-Who, but what if he wasn't alone in his quest, in his journey to defeat the Dark Lord? What if Harry had a life long friend that experienced everything he did, from the first attack to the Final Battle? And what if it was a girl?! How will this duo fair in life with having to deal with their foul Muggle relatives, the Magical World, and the Dark Lord that started it all? Will they be able to survive together and will their relationship grow or will they buckle under the pressure? Well, come inside and find out what's in store for the P-team on their journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lostfeather1](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lostfeather1).



> Disclaimer: I Do NOT own the Harry Potter plot, storyline, or characters, nor do i wish to own them and take them from their rightful owner J.K.Rowling. All rights reserved to the author and the imprinter of the Scholastic Press, Arthur A. Levine.  
> Citation: Rowling, J.K. 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.' Bloomsbury, England: Bloomsbury Children's books, 1998. Book. 19 Sept. 2013.

Memories....they're a funny concept, especially when it involves early childhood memories. The only memories I have are those I have built living here with my foul aunt and uncle, even with my bully of a cousin. Any memory of a former life, of my parents, whether good or bad, happened so long ago, when I was so young, I cannot remember them at all. I can't even remember any early memories of my best friend and I, not even the first time we met, but then, we were just infants when we'd first met, so....now we only share the memories we have on Privet Drive, unfortunately.....but....there's always one memory/dream I've had over the last ten years that comes up around the same time every year, around the time my best friend, Harry and I had come to live here with the Dursleys. A strange dream full of unusual things that just felt....right somehow. 

It always came after this one other dream/memory, a vague dream that often left me wondering the actions behind it, even though our aunt and uncle had always tried convincing us the dream was the memory of the car accident that had killed our parents, both his and mine. And even if we'd wanted to, we couldn't ask any further questions, since one of the rules of peaceful living with the Dursleys was never to ask questions...yeah right....real peaceful....

I had the same dream last night, it making it's usual appearance after the dream of the bright green flash of light....of the cold high-pitched laughter....of a baby's cries, both mine and Harry's, cries full of fear and uncertainty. Eventually we tire ourselves out and I feel a warm body snuggle to mine as he falls asleep, his head nestled against my shoulder. I whimper and snuggle back against him, holding his onesiee and nuzzling back into his untidy black hair, blissful darkness enveloping itself over me as I drift off into my own slumber. I slept peacefully for that short while, warm and content with my best friend nearby, feeling as though nothing bad would happen so long as he was there. I didn't begin to awaken until I felt myself being moved, felt a large blanket being wrapped around Harry and I, bringing the two of us closer, keeping us warm and cozy before we were picked up and cradled against a large chest. Cool wind brushed my face, rustling the thin layer of hair growing from my scalp. Uneasy movement next to me indicated Harry was awake and he whimpered weakly at the sting of cold air, shifting in the blanket. I shifted myself, just wanting to go back to sleep. 

The roar of an engine startled me and I opened my eyes, blinking them quickly and glancing about, confused and scared. An endless velvet blue sky stretched overhead, stars winking down at us from among it's dark depths. I moved my head about, trying to see anything else, spotting a large, hairy face high above, almost as high as the sky, yet not as quite...most of the face was hidden by long, bushy and tangled black hair and a beard. His eyes twinkled softly in the starlight like black beetles and, even though he looked quite fierce, he was gentle, careful not to jostle either Harry or I. The cold wind passed us and the roar of the engine from before filled the air, filling my ears, my face cold from the night air rushing past. Harry's squirming slowly eased and I heard a soft sigh that meant he had fallen asleep again. I squirmed slightly myself, looking around, trying to see something other than the bushy haired giant and the star strewn sky, but it just stretched in all directions, filling my vision. 

Unable to see anything else and finally just giving up, I turned and snuggled back against Harry, burying my face in his untidy black hair once more, trying to stave off the cold. I sighed, warmth returning, comfort and security once more enveloping me in a soothing blanket. I was suddenly feeling very....sleepy again....and all I wanted to do was just drift off into blissful darkness once more....

The wind suddenly slowed and a feeling of descent brought me back to full consciousness and I opened my eyes once more, blinking slowly and looking up at the giant above us, wondering what was going on. The arm holding us close tightened around us as there was a soft jerk and I squirmed uncomfortably as we slowed to a halt and the sound of the engine was cut short. 

"Ah, Hagrid," The sound of an older, male voice touched my ears and I twisted my head in an effort to see where the voice came from. It sounded like that of a grandfather figure, full of reassurance, wisdom, and yet relief at the same time, like he'd been anxious about something, like the safety of his grandchildren had been left in the giant's hands. "there you are, I hoped you would've arrived soon. But, who did you borrow that motorcycle from?"

"Young Sirius Black lent me it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," The giant replied in a rather deep, but soft, kind voice as I felt him shifting his weight and straightening out his body. "I've got them, sir, right here."

"Were there any problems?" 

"No, sir, no problems at all. The house was nearly destroyed, but I managed to get 'em out before the Muggles noticed. He fell asleep as we flew over Bristol and she just woke up."

A couple of new faces appears above us, an older man and woman; the old man was very tall and thin, with long, flowing silver hair and beard, and a very long, crooked nose keeping a pair of half-moon spectacles held up to his bright, twinkling blue as the day time sky eyes. This must've been the man that had spoken to the giant holding us....well...he certainly looked like the grandfather type; his companion had a very severe look about her that suggested she should not be messed with. Her glasses were square-shaped and she had black hair tied back into a tight bun at the back of her head. Harry stretched in his sleep and snuggled further against me while I blinked up at the adults and tilted my head, wondering what they were staring at. 

"That's where -?" the woman whispered. 

"Yes...." the old man said with a sigh. "They'll have those scars for the rest of their lives."

"Couldn't you do something, though, Dumbledore? Isn't there a charm or something you could use?" 

"Even if there was, I wouldn't. Scars can be useful at times. I myself have one above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well....we'd best get this over with, hand them to me, Hagrid." The man named Dumbledore said as Harry and I were transferred from the giant to the him. He held us close and turned around, heading for a dark house I could see out of the corner of my vision. 

"Wait, Professor Dumbledore, sir....could....could I say good-bye to them?" The giant asked, making the man pause and turn slightly. The giant bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and I. I whimpered, feeling his unruly black hair brushing my face uncomfortably as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. He pulled back and suddenly let out a howl like a wounded dog. I jumped and whimpered again. The man holding us rocked us to try and calm me down to keep me from crying while the woman tried calming the giant down. 

"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry," he sobbed as a sound like a foghorn muffled his crying. "B-b-but th-this is s-s-so much t-t-to take i-in - Lily, K-Kristen, J-James, an' Mark dead - an' poor Harry and Cheyenne h-havin' ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, we all know how sad it is, but you have to get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or someone's going to find us," I heard the woman whisper before there was the sound of feet moving over crisp, fresh grass. The man leaned down, laying Harry and I as gently as he could on a thick, scratchy mat, pulling a letter from his clothes and nestling it in our blanket, right between us. Then, he turned and he was gone. I turned my head, trying to lift it, trying to find him, a whimper escaping me once more as tears stung the back of my eyes. A feeling of loneliness settled over me, which quickly diminished when I felt Harry turn onto his side, hear the crinkle of paper as his hand closed on the letter between us. I turned to him, nuzzling into his hair and gripping the letter, too, relaxing as soon as the realization that my best friend was still here, still by my side, calming me, returning that sense of security from before as it helped lull me back into peaceful sleep.

It would be this sense of security that we would both need over the coming years, this bond that we had to keep us going while we had to endure life on Privet Drive....heh...who knew that bond ran deeper than anyone would have ever thought possible?


	2. Dudley's Birthday Suprise

The familiarly strange dream lingered in my subconscious even as I slipped back into the waking world, awakened by the usual morning noises floating up through the house from the kitchen. I blinked slowly, reaching up to rub the sleep from my eyes, watching the blurry strip of light coming in through the top of the door make it's way diagonally across the dusty, cob web covered ceiling, the only light that seemed to dare penetrate the thick darkness of the coat closet which had been used as my bedroom the last ten years. Sighing slowly and stretching my arms in the limited space, I flipped over on the thin cot I slept on, snuggling my pillow and opening my eyes to stare at the dark wall through the wavy, dark brown bangs screening them. Light glinted off the circular glasses resting upon the dusty trunk behind my cot, the clear scotch tape holding the bridge of the glasses together glimmering faintly between the lenses. 

Slowly brushing the bangs from my hazel green eyes, the tips of my fingers brushed my forehead and the lightning shaped scar decorating my skin. It hadn't been until I'd gotten over the age of five that I'd begun to realize that, in my dream, my scar had been what the adults had been staring at, the scar identical to the one on my best friend's forehead. The only thing I couldn't understand, though, was what they'd been talking about when they talked about our scars, about them being useful, about getting rid of them....why would we want to get rid of them, when they were one of the only reminders we had left of our parents? Was there something wrong with these scars? I let my fingers run over the mark again,frowning....what did they mean?

A sudden rapping on the closet door made me jump and I turned on my side to look up at the intimidatingly tall piece of wood as a familiarly shrill voice sounded.

"Girl, get up! Now! I need you and the boy to look after the bacon. And don't neither of you dare let it burn, everything needs to be perfect for Duddy's birthday."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." I said, inwardly sighing and rolling my eyes as I pushed the thin blanket off myself and sat up, rubbing the remaining sleep from my eyes before I pushed my glasses up my nose, my 'room' coming into clearer focus through the prescribed lenses. 

Dudley's birthday, oh dear lords above how could I have forgotten such an important day like this one? Forget the holidays, everything had to come to a halt for the day Dudley was first brought into his world...yippee...

Sighing and shaking my head, I started scavenging for a pair of socks, finally finding one under my cot and another behind the dusty trunk, carefully examining each to make sure they were clear of spiders, which I had a fear of since I'd grown up with them here in the coat closet. I'd just always hated creepy crawlies, especially when I felt them on my skin. Ew...

Pulling my socks on and adjusting my large, hand me down shirt, I stepped out of the dim closet, narrowing my eyes against the bright light, waiting for them to adjust. Sunlight spilled through the open doorways on each side of the hall, filling it with sunlight, small dust partials left over from a recent clean floating in the yellow white light. 

Stretching in the generous space and pulling my too large jeans up again so my feet could be free, I rubbed my eyes once more, blinked, then I made my way downstairs and headed for the kitchen. Harry was already at the stove looking after the bacon. Around the kitchen, the table was laden with birthday presents, almost invisible underneath them. I could see Dudley'd gotten quite a few of the things he'd asked for, like the new computer, second television and even, surprisingly enough, the racing bike. Dudley wasn't the kind of boy that liked exercise as he was quite...large...the only time he really exercised was when he was punching someone, especially when it came to Harry and I, as we were his favorite punching bags, poor Harry more than myself. Although, he would often have to catch us, as both Harry and I were quite fast, even if we didn't look it. 

Having to grow up in a coat closet and in the cupboard under the stairs left Harry and I smaller and skinner than anyone else our own age. The hand me down clothes we got from Dudley, who was easily four times our sizes combined, didn't really help matters, either. I sighed softly as I turned to join Harry at the stove to help look after the bacon, handing him the spatula when he reached for it. 

Although my best friend and I weren't blood related, there were some similarities between us, despite the two foot difference in our height and slight difference in our body types, like our thin frames and faces, although mine was less so than his. He was held up by knobbly knees hidden by baggy jeans, his untidy black hair falling in front of his bright green eyes. Like me, he wore round glasses, the bridge of which was held together by tons of Scotch tape due to all the times he'd gotten punched in the face by our cousin. Hidden under his untidy black bangs was the identical lightning bolt scar, almost like my scar's twin. The first question we'd ever asked, or we could ever remember asking, our Aunt Petunia was how and where we had gotten them. She answered in the same way she had when I'd mentioned my dream, by telling us we had gotten them in the car accident that had taken both of our parents. Afterward, she'd told us not to ask questions, as, once again, one rule of 'peaceful' living here on Privet Drive was not to ask questions. 

I was just pulling some plates out of the cabinet and setting them next to the stove when Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen and eyed the two of us disdainfully. 

"Boy, comb your hair!" he barked, which was his way of greeting Harry in the morning. I blinked boredly at him as he turned to sit at the table, shaking my head slowly and rolling my eyes at the large man's back before turning back to my best friend. Every week without fail Uncle Vernon looked up over his morning news paper to shout at Harry that he needed a haircut, even though he'd had more haircuts than every single boy in our year combined, but then, it really didn't make a difference, since his hair simply grew all over the place. 

I was helping Harry fry up some eggs when our cousin came waddling into the kitchen, his mother following behind him, her hands on his large shoulders, a wide smile on her horsey face. Dudley mostly took after Uncle Vernon in looks, as he'd inherited the little bit of neck from his father, as well as the large pink face and the small, water blue eyes. His thick blond hair lay smoothly on top of his fat head. I rolled my eyes at the memories of Aunt Petunia calling him a baby angel. 

"Hey Harry, look, it's the pig in the wig," I whispered to Harry, who snickered, then stifled it and turned to finish the eggs and bacon so we wouldn't get into trouble. I held the plates while he put the eggs and bacon on them, then I helped him carry them over to the table, although that was the easy part, now finding a place to put them, that was a challenge. Dudley was counting his presents through all of this and his face suddenly fell. 

"Thirty-six," he informed his parents as he turned to them, still frowning deeply. "There're two less presents than last year here."

"Oh, but darling, look, there's a present from Auntie Marge hidden under this big one from Mommy and Daddy, you need to count that one, too." Aunt Petunia told him gently, causing her son to go red in the face and suck in a breath as it expanded.

"Thirty-seven, then," Dudley said furiously, making my skin crawl with anticipation, recognizing the signs of a huge Dudley tantrum. Quickly grabbing my plate, I pulled it onto my lap while Harry began wolfing his bacon down as fast as he could from right next to me, knowing it was possible for our cousin to turn the table over when he was mad. 

Obviously sensing the danger as well, Aunt Petunia quickly spoke up again, "And today, while we're out, Daddy and I will buy you two more presents, does that sound good, popkin? Two more presents?"

Dudley paused to think this over for a moment, his face screwed up in concentration, looking like he was about to hurt himself. When he finally spoke, he spoke slowly, "So then I'll have thirty....thirty...."

"You'll have thirty-nine, sweetums," Aunt Petunia told him gently. 

"Oh..." Dudley mumbled, taking a seat at the table and grabbing the first parcel his hands could land on. "All right then..."

Uncle Vernon chuckled from over his newspaper as I blew the bangs from my eyes. 

"Does the heart good to see the boy wanting to get his money's worth, just like me. 'Atta boy, son!" he ruffled Dudley's hair with a grin.

I returned my plate to the table as the telephone sounded from out in the hall and Aunt Petunia bustled out of the kitchen to answer it.

"Slow down, Harry, or you'll upset your stomach." I told him gently, taking a slow bite of my bacon. He coughed slightly and nodded as I pat his back, slowing down eating his food as we watched Dudley unwrap a couple of his presents, including his racing bike, a video camera, and a VCR. Aunt Petunia returned just as her son was pulling the wrapping paper off a gold wristwatch, looking upset about something. 

"I've got bad news, Vernon,"she said grimly. "Mrs. Figg's tripped over one of her cats and broken her leg, so she can't take them today." she shot Harry and I a look, as though we'd had something to do with this.

Dudley's mouth opened in horror while Harry and I exchanged hopeful glances. Each year on Dudley's birthday, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would take him and one of his friends out for the day, whether it be to a a theme park, hamburger restaurant, or even the movies, while Harry and I were left in the care of our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Figgs, a mad old woman just two streets away. It wasn't very fun there, either...it's not that Mrs. Figgs wasn't nice, it was just, well...you can only take so much of looking at old photos of previously owned cats and the smell of cabbage that perfumed a house like air freshener. 

"Now what do we do?" Aunt Petunia asked furiously, glaring at Harry and I. I lowered my gaze to my plate, frowning thoughtfully, empathy flashing through me at the thought of Mrs. Figg's breaking her leg, but it had to compete with the thought that Harry and I wouldn't have to look at photos of Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again for another year. 

"What if we phoned Marge?" Uncle Vernon suggested hopefully. 

"You know she hates them both!" 

We were often talked about as if we weren't even in the room, or rather, as though we were something that couldn't even understand what the Dursleys were saying. 

"What about your friend, what's her name? Oh, Yvonne?"

"She's on vacation in Majorca," Aunt Petunia snapped in reply.

"O-or...you could just...leave us here..." I said timidly, lifting my gaze to our aunt and uncle, hopeful that they would leave Harry and I here by ourselves. It would give us a chance to watch what we wanted on television for once and maybe we could have a crack at Dudley's computer.

Aunt Petunia pursed her lips tightly, as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. 

"Yes, leave the two of you here alone and come back to find only ruins of the house left!" she snarled. 

"We won't blow the house up," Harry said quickly, but neither of them was listening. 

"Hm, what if we took them with us to the zoo..." Aunt Petunia said slowly, "and left them in the car?"

"I just bought that car, I will not let those two sit in it alone!" Uncle Vernon said stubbornly. 

Dudley began a round of loud, dry sobs; the last time he had really cried he'd been a toddler. But he'd learned from a young age that if he screwed up his face enough and wailed he could get anything he wanted from his mother. 

"Oh, my Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let either of them spoil your special day!" she cried in a heart broken voice, encircling her arms around her son. 

"I...don't...want....ei-either...of...of...them...t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between his fake sobs. "T-they always sp-spoil everything!" A nasty smirk was shot through the gap in his mother's arms at Harry and I while we looked at each other and sighed. 

The doorbell rang, then, causing Aunt Petunia to squeak frantically about our guest as she bustled out to get the front door. Moments later, Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend and right hand man, the one who held a victim in place while Dudley punched them, walked into the kitchen, followed closely by his mother. Unlike Dudley, Piers had a scrawny frame with a face similar to that of a rat. As soon as he saw us, he shot us a look, which Harry and I returned wholeheartedly. Dudley ceased his fake crying at once. 

Unbelievably, mercilessly, half an hour later, Harry and I found ourselves in the back of the Dursleys' car between Piers and Dudley, on our way to the zoo, for the first time in either of our lives. Neither our aunt or our uncle could think of anything else to do with us, although, before we'd set off, Uncle Vernon had given Harry and I a very clear warning. 

"I warn you both," he'd said as he'd pulled us away from the car and pushed his face right up to my and Harry's; Harry had wrapped a protective around around my waist, pushing me behind him to keep himself between me and our uncle, knowing how dangerous he could be in this kind of mood. "I warn you both right now, if either of you pull any funny business, if you even think about trying anything funny, both of you will be locked in that cupboard and closet from now until New Years!"

"B-but, Uncle Vernon, we won't do anything, we promise!" I told him softly, lowering my gaze fearfully, avoiding his hot gaze. "Honest...."

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe it...but then again, when did he or anyone else ever believe either Harry or I?

The only problem was that, no matter if we wanted it or not, strange things always seemed to happen around Harry and I, separately or together....and just trying to tell the Dursleys we didn't know how they happened was like trying to teach a cat to speak human. 

Once, for example, Aunt Petunia, frustrated and sick of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't set foot in one in his entire life, had taken her kitchen scissors and cut practically all his hair off, with the exception of his bangs, which she'd left to hide his scar. Dudley had laughed so hard he'd actually been crying and I spent a sleepless night consoling my best friend in his cupboard, where he kept imagining how things at school would go the next day, where the two of us were already made fun of for our too large clothes and taped glasses. The following morning, however, when I returned downstairs from changing for school, I found his hair was exactly as it had been before it'd been mowed off. That incident earned him a week of cupboard time, although neither of us could figure out how in the world his hair had grown back so quickly. 

Another example earned me my own week long punishment in my coat closet. After being shoved into a revolting pile of trash for trying to keep Dudley's gang from beating Harry up and coming home smelling like a stray dog, I wasn't allowed inside the house until I cleaned myself off and I had to go around to the backyard to hose myself off and wait for the smell to go away. Harry had come back to help me and was helping me reach places that I couldn't on my own. Afterward, we went into the house, but from how Uncle Vernon yelled at us, it appeared we hadn't done a good enough job and he dragged me back out into the back yard. He snatched up the water hose and turned it on high before turning the spray on me; it hurt, like a thousand needles boring into my skin and it startled me, so, one minute I'm getting sprayed, the next it's stopped and there's a pop. When I looked up, the hose had twisted itself into a knot near where it escaped, building up water behind the knot and causing it to explode. Uncle Vernon was drenched, just like me. Sputtering and reddening rapidly, he'd dropped the destroyed hose and started yelling at me even though I'd had no clue how the hose had gotten knotted up, resulting in the explosion, but he didn't stop his tirade to properly explain. Afterward, he'd told me to get inside, change out of my clothes and then go to my closet, which he promptly locked me inside. 

Then, something happened at school that caused Uncle Vernon to lock us in our cupboard and closet for a month straight. Somehow, we'd been found on the roof of the school after trying to elude Dudley and his gang, sitting together on the chimney. Our headmistress had sent us home with a very angry letter for the Dursleys, telling them Harry and I were climbing school buildings. The only thing we tried to do, however, was jump behind the dumpster behind the kitchens to hide ourselves. The only explaination we could come up with was that a strong headwind had caught us mid-jump. 

Today, though, nothing would go wrong. We would make sure of it. It was even worth having to spend the day with Dudley and Piers, but then, any day not spent at school, in our cupboard/closet, or stuck at Mrs. Figg's cabbage smelling house was a good one. 

During the drive, Uncle Vernon complained about a few of his favorite things to Aunt Petunia. A few of these subjects included the people he worked with, Harry and I, our town council, Harry and I, their bank, and, again, Harry and I. Today's topic, however, centered around motorcycles. 

"Little hoodlums just roaring down the road like maniacs...." he grumbled as we were overtaken by one of the snarling machines. I watched it growing smaller through the windshield, remembering my dream. Harry, whose lap I was sitting in, peered around me.

"Chey and I dreamt about motorcycles last night," he said, recalling what we'd told each other when we'd had a few moments to talk at breakfast. "They flew!"

We nearly collided with the car in front of us, Uncle Vernon stomping down on the brakes just in time before he spun around in his seat. "MOTORCYCLES DO NOT FLY!" he bellowed, his face the shade of a beet. 

Dudley and Piers snickered. 

"W-we know...." I said timidly, wincing at his yelling and leaning fearfully back against Harry's chest as his arms wound protectively around my waist. "T-they were o-only dr-dreams...."

Knowing he'd only wanted to add to the conversation, I wished Harry hadn't said anything about it. Either he or I talking about something unusual was something the Dursleys hated more than us asking questions. It didn't even matter if we talked about a dream or cartoon, as anything unusual made them act like such things would give either of us dangerous ideas. 

It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday, the zoo crowded with happy and excited families. Dudley and Piers each got a large chocolate ice cream at the entrance and Harry and I were each given a cheap lemon ice pop, having been asked what we'd wanted by the smiling woman in the van before we could be steered away. They weren't even that bad, either, they were nice and sweet, a thought that crossed my mind as we watched a gorilla, who bore a great resemblance to Dudley, scratched his black head. 

It was the best morning either Harry or I had had in a very long time, although we were careful not to walk too closely to the Dursleys, noticing Dudley and Piers were starting to get bored with the animals by the time lunch rolled around, not wanting to be nearby if they wanted to fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting us. We had lunch in the zoo restaurant and Harry and I were lucky enough to get to finish off Dudley's first Knickerbocker glory after he threw a tantrum over it not having enough ice cream on top, while Uncle Vernon ordered him a new one. 

Unfortunately, all of this was all too good to last for long. 

After lunch we headed over to the reptile house, where Dudley and Piers said they wanted to see large, poisonous cobras and deathly, man-crushing pythons. Inside it was comfortably cool and dark, each window looking into the cages lit up along the walls. In each cage different kinds of lizards and snakes crawled and slithered over bits of wood and stone. It wasn't long before Dudley found the biggest snake in the whole entire place. It looked big enough to wrap itself twice around Uncle Vernon's new car and strong enough to crush it into a trash can, but, as we watched it, it just didn't look to be in the mood. It was actually fast asleep on the log resting on the middle of the mossy, leave strewn tank. 

Dudley pressed his nose up against the glass, his large eyes watching the brown coils glisten beautifully in the artificial lights before he turned abruptly to his father, ordering him to make the snake move. Uncle Vernon rapped on the glass once, then twice, doing it smartly the second time, as though it would make a difference, but the snake only continued to snooze. 

Dudley whined about how boring the snake was before he waddled off to look at the other reptiles, Piers following closely behind him. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went off to explore themselves, leaving Harry and I to move in front of the tank and peer inside at the snake intently, understanding how he must feel, being cooped up in a cage, the only visitors except for stupid people tapping on the glass, trying to disturb it. It wouldn't be that big of a surprise if the poor thing had died of boredom. Having to live here was far worse than having to live in a cupboard under the stairs or a coat closet, where your only visitor was Aunt Petunia shrieking at you that it was time to wake up, but...at least we were free to go visit the rest of the house.

Beady black eyes suddenly opened and the snake lifted its head slowly until its eyes were level with Harry's. Then, incredibly....it winked!

My eyes widened and I had to fight to keep my mouth closed as I stared at the snake. Harry glanced quickly around the rest of the reptile house, making sure no one else had seen before he turned back to the snake. I glanced sideways at him, exchanging a look with him before we returned our attention to the snake and winked back at it together. 

In response, the snake nodded toward Uncle Vernon, then Dudley before rolling it's eyes toward the ceiling. The look on it's face quite plainly said he got that all the time. 

"Oh, sweety, we understand," I murmured softly to the snake with a soft smile, speaking to it through the glass. "We know how annoying it must be."

The snake nodded it's head vigorously in reply. 

"Where'd you come from?" Harry asked the snake curiously. It replied by pointing toward the sign next to its tank with its tail. I leaned in close to read it, humming. the snake was a Boa from Brazil, but it appeared this guy had been bred in captivity. He'd never seen his roots, been where his parents or even grandparents had been born and raised....

"OI, DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY, COME LOOK AT THIS! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT THIS SNAKE IS DOING!" The sudden yell made me jump and whirl around quickly as Piers sprinted in our direction, Dudley waddling as fast as he could after his best friend. 

"Move out of the way, you two," he hissed as pain flashed through my side, sending me backward onto the floor, another ripple of pain erupting through my funny bone as it makes contact with the hard concrete. I whimpered, rolling on my other side and rubbing the throbbing appendage, glaring up at the boys pressing their noses right up against the glass with eager grins, well, that is, until they leapt backward, howling in horror. My eyes widened as I looked up at the tank, jolting in surprise at seeing the glass had disappeared. The boa uncoiled itself quickly, slithering out of the inclosure onto the floor. The people in the reptile house all noised this and began to scream as they rushed for the exits. 

Harry scrambled closer to me to make sure I was all right, the snake sliding swiftly past us. A low, hissy voice spoke then, "Ah, freedom! I'm heading to Brazil....Thanksss, amigo, to you and your mate." his beady eyes fixed on me and heat rose in my cheeks. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably as he helped me to my feet. 

Shock had frozen the reptile house keeper, who just stared, wide-eyed, after the escaped boa, stuttering foolishly. People were so wound up that the zoo director himself had to come to the reptile house. He apologized endlessly as he made Aunt Petunia a strong cup of sweet tea. Neither Piers nor Dudley could speak, only gibber mindlessly. From what we'd seen, the snake had only snapped playfully at their heels upon passing, but by the time we were climbing back into Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was trying to convince us that the snake had tried to bite his leg off while Piers swore it tried squeezing him to death. But then, worst of all, Piers called enough to tell Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia that Harry and I had been talking to the snake. 

It wasn't until Piers was safely out of the house that Uncle Vernon advanced dangerously on Harry and I. He could hardly speak he was so angry, but still he managed to grit out between clenched teeth, "Go - cupboard - closet - grounded - no meals -" then, afterward, he collapsed into a chair and Aunt petunia rushed to get him a large brandy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neon green numbers read out one o'clock in the morning, blinking out at me from the face of an old wristwatch I had found under the couch one day when I'd been helping Aunt Petunia clean. The green numbers were the only source of light in the pitch blackness of my closet. It was a large watch, one that Dudley had owned and lost and one I kept to tell me what time it was whenever Harry and I were punished to our cupboard or closet. It helped tell me when it would be safe to sneak out so Harry and I could go snatch food from the kitchen. Living in the upstairs coat closet helped, too, as I could hear when the Dursleys were asleep or not. Several doors down, I could hear Dudley snoring, which he'd been doing for the last couple of hours, but I hadn't wanted to sneak out yet least I get caught. 

Glancing at the clock again and taking a deep breath, I slipped off my cot and went to the door, pushing it open slightly to peer out into the darkness of the hall. Uncle Vernon and Dudley's snores intermixed in the dark passage as they spilled out through the open doors of their bedrooms. Slowly sliding the door open until I could slip through the opening, I closed it behind me and felt my way toward the stairs, moving carefully and skipping the last step at the bottom, knowing it creaked. My hands slid along the cool wall, brushing over the frame of the cupboard door. I tapped softly, leaning close to whisper to Harry inside. He opened the door, his hand sliding into mine automatically as we snuck off into the kitchen to get something to eat. We slipped back into his cupboard ten minutes later with a couple of sandwiches and talked as we ate. 

Ten miserable years had passed since Harry and I had been brought to live here, ten long years since the night we'd lost all our parents in that car crash that had their lives. Both of us had had that dream, the dream of the bright flash of green light, the cold, high-pitched laughter, both of us knowing it had to be from that night, but neither of us could properly explain it, not the laughter, at least....the green light could've been a stoplight, but the laughter....where could it have come from....?

There were still no memories of either my or Harry's parents either of us could recall and our aunt and uncle refused to talk about them and any questions were forbidden. Not a single photograph of any of them was in the house. 

Dreams of an unknown relative coming to get Harry and I, to take us away from our horrible aunt and uncle had plagued our dreams when we'd been younger, hope that it would happen one day filling us, but then diminishing as time wore on and such a thing never occurred....the Dursleys, apparently, were our only remaining family. Yet, at times, it seemed to us that strangers on the street knew us somehow....very very strange strangers, too. Once, at the market with Aunt Petunia and Dudley, a tiny man with a violet top hat bowed to the two of us. Aunt Petunia then rushed us from the store without buying anything, after interrogating the two of us if we'd known the man. Then, on the bus, we'd been waved at by a wild-looking old woman dressed in all green. And finally, a bald man sporting a long purple coat actually shook Harry's hand and kissed mine the other day while we were out on the street, then he left without a single word. But the strangest thing of all was the fact that each of these people seemed to vanish the second either of us tried to get a close look.

At school, meanwhile, we only had each other, as everyone knew neither of us were liked by Dudley's gang. Dudley's gang ruled the school and no one liked to go against them if they wished to get away unscathed.


	3. Mystery Letters

Our punishment for the escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry and I our longest punishment ever. The days of school work, report cards, and parent teacher conferences were behind us, replaced by the sweltering, lazy days of summer by the time Harry and I were granted our freedom. Already many of Dudley's birthday presents were either broken or had been used for misbehavoiral tasks. Poor Mrs. Figg had been run down by Dudley on his racing bike its first time out while she'd been crossing Privet Drive on her crutches.   
  
Well, at least Harry and I wouldn't have to deal with all the nasty teachers and other students who turned cold shoulders like it was no one's business. There was an unfortunate side to the summer, though....without school or homework to occupy them, neither of us could avoid Dudley and his gang, who spent almost every day of the summer over the house. The five members of this gang were all the biggest and stupidest of the whole school, but the biggest and stupidest of them all was Dudley, which made him the leader. And, unfortunately for Harry and I, the gang's favorite sport was always Harry and Cheyenne Hunting, which, naturally, Dudley always led.   
  
Due to these circumstances, Harry and I spent a great deal of our time out of the house, wandering the streets, talking about the brightest moment in our lives, shining at us from the end of the long, dark tunnel that was our lives. Dudley, Harry, and I had always attended the same school, which was one of the major reasons neither Harry and I had friends aside from one another but when the summer holidays ended this year, Dudley would be off to the same private school Uncle Vernon had attended as a young man, Smeltings, and Harry and I would be attending Stonewall High, the public school in our town. Piers would be attending Smeltings, too, so, hopefully, Harry and I could actually enjoy school for once instead of being afraid of being beaten up every day. Dudley, of course, thought us going to the public school was halrious and he tried convincing Harry and I to come up to the bathroom to practice getting our heads stuffed in the toilet, telling us it would was a tradition on our first day. Harry joked that he wouldn't want to make the toilet sick by stuffing Dudley's head down it before he grabbed my hand and hurried away before our cousin could work out his words.  
  
One warm day in July, Harry and I enjoyed a day at Mrs. Figg's house watching television and eating chocolate cake while Aunt Petunia was in London getting Dudley his Smeltings uniform. Mrs. Figg had broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, which made her less fond of them than usual.   
  
When we returned home that evening, we had to watch Dudley parade his new uniform about the living room, which consisted of maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. Each boy was also supposed to carry with them a knobbly stick that they used to hit each other....Uncle Vernon told us some garbage about how it was supposed to be some kind of training for later life.   
  
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were overcome with joy and pride at the sight of Dudley in his Smeltings' uniform. Uncle Vernon said it was the proudest moment of his life, his voice gruff with emotion, while his wife burst into happy tears, saying she couldn't believe it was her little Ickle Dudleykins, that he was so grown-up and handsome now. Harry was pursing his lips tightly, trying to keep a straight face and I knew he was fighting hard to keep from laughing. A piercing gaze burned into my scalp and I looked up from my book, curious to know who was glaring at me. I met my aunt and uncle's penetrating gazes and gulped, knowing they were expecting me to say something in Harry's steady.  
  
Sighing to myself, I marked the page in my book and closed it before I set it gently in my lap, lifting my head to look at Dudley. I forced a smile on my lips, my muscles burning with the forced effort.   
  
"Oh wow, Dudley, that uniform makes you look so handsome. You're going to catch the eye of _all_ the girls at Smeltings." I told him, my stomach clenching painfully as I pushed the lie out past my lips. The young man grinned stupidly at my compliment, obviously missing my discomfort. My aunt and uncle nodded curtly in a way to tell me my compliment was acceptable.   
  
I was going to need an extra large bar of soap to wash my mouth out tonight.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The followed morning, my and Harry's noses were assulted with a horrid smell upon entering the kitchen for breakfast, the source of such a stink floating in a large metal tub sitting in the sink. Upon closer inspection, we found the tub to be filled with gray water with bits of dirty rags in it. I blinked and frowned, tilting my head.  
  
"U-um, Aunt Petunia...what...uh...what is this?" I asked softly, turning my gaze on our aunt curiously, watching her lips tighten immiediately at the question.  
  
"Those are your new school uniforms." she told us. Harry turned his attention to the clothes floating in the tub before us and I frowned uncertainly.  
  
"O-Our new school...uniforms...oh, well...Um...." I looked back at the clothes floating in the water as well.  
  
"We didn't think they had to be so wet." Harry commented, looking back at her.  
  
"Don't be an idiot, your uniforms will be dry soon enough, I'm just dyeing them so they'll look just like everyone else's."   
  
"O-okay...?" I said uncertainly, glancing at Harry, who shrugged and led the way to the table with a sigh. I ran my fingers through my hair and chewed my lip, wondering how our aunt could possibly think our cousin's old clothes dyed gray would make them look exactly like the others students. No doubt we were going to be laughed at for wearing clothes that looked as though we were wearing bits of elephant skin.  
  
Uncle Vernon and Dudley joined us not too shortly after this, both their noses wrinkling at the smell coming from the dying tub, although neither commented on it as they joined us at the table, Uncle Vernon disappearing behind his usual morning newpaper. The kitchen was soon filled with the sound of wood smacking against wood as Dudley hit the table with his Smelting stick, which he now carried everywhere. The sound hurt my ears and I could feel a headache starting to seep into my temples.  
  
A soft click sounded from the hall, followed shortly after by the plop of letters on the doormat, signaling the arrival of the mail. Uncle Vernon told Dudley to get the mail, but Dudley argued that Harry should do it. Harry argued back and I groaned, my headache only worsening as they continued back and forth. Pushing up from the table, I turned on my heel and headed out of the kitchen for the front door, knowing someone needed to get the mail. I was not in the mood to hear any arguements between the boys, either.  
  
Stooping down next to the doormat, I reached for the letters, ignoring the throbbing in my temples as I examined the contents of our mail. There were only four things there, including a postcard to Uncle Vernon from his sister, Marge, from her vacation on the Isle of Wight, an official looking brown envelope and...two letters? Upon closer inspection to find the addressee, I saw the letters appeared to be for _Harry and I!_  
  
Gulping thickly several times to clear my throat, I shakily picked the envelopes up in my hand, staring at the neatly inked emerald green words, clear as day upon the thick yellow parchment it had been written upon. But...but who....? Who could they possibly be from? There was no one who either Harry or I could write to that would write us back, considering we were each other's only friends and our only relatives were Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley. Neither of us even belonged to the library, so we never got any letters telling us to return any overdue library books. Yet it was so plainly written on this parchment in front of me. Mine read:  
  
 **Miss C. Power**  
  
 **The Upstairs Coat Closet**  
  
 **4 Privet Drive**  
  
 **Little Whinging**  
  
 **Surrey**  
  
I gulped, biting my bottom lip as I examined the thick yellow parchment and emerald letters, frowning at the absence of a stamp in the corner like usual. Flipping the envelope around with a trembling hand, I noticed it was held closed by a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms composed of large letter _H_ surrounded by a lion, eagle, badger, and snake.   
  
A hand on my shoulder made me jump in surprise and I looked up, meeting a soft green gaze.   
  
"Chey?" Harry said softly, tilting his head worriedly. "Is something wrong?"  
  
I blinked and gulped, trying to clear my throat and tell him about the letters, but it didn't seem to want to work with me, leaving me unable to speak, Harry's eyes tightening more with worry. I bit my bottom lip silently and looked back down at the mail in my hands, my trembling left hand tightening around them, drawing Harry's attention. His hand gently reached for mine and I lifted it so his hand brushed the parchment, drawing his attention to the piece of mail that was his. I looked up at him through my lashes, seeing his eyes widen. I held it out toward him and he shakily took the letter from me, gulping slowly, confusion and disbelief written across his features. His eyes rose again, meeting my gaze for a few heartbeats.  
  
"Hurry it up, will you two?" Uncle Vernon shouted out to us from the kitchen, sounding impatient. "What, are you checking to make sure there aren't any letter bombs?" an amused chuckle reached us, but I was too far gone to roll my eyes at the fact that Uncle Vernon had just laughed at his own joke. Slowly breaking his gaze, Harry took my hand and led the way back into the kitchen, both of us holding our letters close.  We handed Uncle Vernon his mail, then sat down together at the table, slowly tearing a slit through the top of the envelopes. I was so busy concentrating on pulling the letter out and opening it that I didn't even see our uncle and cousin had noticed Harry and I had our letters, so I didn't even have time to stop him before the parchment was snatched from my hands by my uncle.   
  
"Hey!" I burst out angrily, jumping to my feet as Harry tried to snatch our letters back. Uncle Vernon jerked his hand back with a sneer.  
  
"Who could possibly be writing to the two of _you_?" he said snidely, causing heat to rise in my cheeks, embarrassed tears to sting the back of my eyes and raise in my throat. I gulped them back, glaring at him angrily, clenching my hands under the table as he shook Harry's letter open with one hand, peering down at it. The color in his cheeks changed so fast it was like we were looking at a set of traffic lights as a light green tinge replaced the ruddy red color, although it didn't stop at green, as all color seemed to fade, leaving him looking as white as clean linen.  His throat looked like it had squeezed shut, leaving him speechless as well and it was several moments before he could choke out his wife's name, jerking both letters back out of his son's reach as he reached forward to grab them. Aunt Petunia took mine from him, opening it curiously to see what it said. Her own face whitened like she'd just seen a ghost and she looked seconds away from fainting.   
  
"Oh, oh goodness, Vernon...." she whispered.  
  
The couple stared at one another, looking to be lost in their own little world, seemingly forgetting Harry, Dudley, and I were even there. Dudley, not used to being ignored, reached across the table to tap his father sharply on the head with his Smelting's stick.  
  
"I wanna read those letters!" he said loudly.  
  
"Oi, we want to read them! Those letters are OURS after all!" Harry and I shot out furiously.   
  
"Out, out all three of you!" Uncle Vernon managed to choke out as he stuffed Harry's letter back into it's envelope.   
  
I grit my teeth, ready to object when I felt something grab my collar, dragging me backward. I stumbled over my chair, righting myself quickly as I was dragged out of the kitchen and shoved into the hallway, turning my head as Aunt Petunia left the doorway, her face still pale, swaying slightly, procareiously. I pursed my lips tightly, narrowing my eyes at her as she went, hearing Harry and Dudley shouting that they wanted to see the letters. Uncle Vernon had finally had enough.  
  
"OUT!" he roared, seconds before Harry and Dudley were flung out into the hallway with me, the door to the kitchen slamming in my face. I winced, taking a step back as I sighed softly. I turned my head, watching the two silently argue over who was going to listen at the door to see what the couple was saying; a yelp came from our cousin as I smacked him across the back of the head, glaring at him for hitting Harry just to win a silly argument. I mean really, did he _have_ to resort to violence to solve all his problems? What was even the point of that, it was just so stupid.   
  
Harry told us what he heard, about how Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were talking about the letter sender, about how they could know where Harry and I slept, that they thought the house was being watched or something. Harry told us Aunt Petunia wondered what we should do, suggesting perhaps they should write back and refuse whatever the letter said, but Uncle Vernon refused that idea, saying they'll just ignore the sender, that maybe they'll just leave us alone if they don't get any kind of answer. His sudden shout made the three of us jump clear out of our skins.  
  
"I will _not_ have a single one of their kind in the house, Petunia! We swore the day we took the two of them in that we would put a stop to all that rubbish and we will!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry and I received quite a surprise that evening when Uncle Vernon visited us in Harry's cupboard after work. We were talking quietly about the letters, but ceased when the cupboard door opened and he squeezed himelf in next to us. Harry narrowed his eyes on our uncle, demanding to know where our letters were and who was writing to us.  
  
"No one's writing to either of you, the addressee was wrong." Uncle Vernon replied shortly. "I've burned both letters."  
  
"The address was not wrong, the letters had our cupboard and closet on it!" I shot out angrily, glaring at him. He clenched his fists and shouted for silence, causing a couple of spiders to fall from the ceiling. I squeaked and leapt backwards, hugging Harry. He hugged me tightly, rubbing my back soothingly as he continued glaring at our uncle, who was trying to calm himelf down, taking a few deep breaths before he forced a smile.  
  
"Ahem, well...Harry, Cheyenne...hm, well...about your cupboard and closet....you're both getting a little too big for them, aren't you? With that being the case, your aunt and I think it might suit you both better if you shared Dudley's second bedroom. Petunia's even set up a curtain so you can have privacy when you need to change."  
  
"W-wait...what? Why...?" I asked, taken off guard, confused by their sudden kindness. Why would they suddenly give us Dudley's second bedroom, give us their son's toy filled room, just because? Something was off...seriously off...  
  
Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes dangerously, making me flinch and lean further against Harry, whose arms tightened protectively around my waist as our uncle snapped that we shouldn't ask questions. Then, he told us to take our stuff upstairs and left us alone to do just that. I looked up at Harry slowly and he frowned slightly, looking just as confused as I felt.   
  
"Sh-should we....?" I whispered, biting my bottom lip, uncertain. Harry didn't answer me right away, just stared at the place where our uncle had been standing with a blank stare, his brows furrowed in thoughts. After a few minutes, he turned his attention toward me, still frowning deepy.  
  
"I-I guess...I'll meet you up there in a couple of minutes...." he said. I nodded slowly, gently untangling myself from his arms and getting off his bed. I left his cupboard and went upstairs to my closet to get my stuff, which I knew wouldn't take long. My and Harry's new bedroom was right across the hall from my closet, one of four. Before today it had been used as an extra room where Dudley could keep the toys that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. The other bedrooms were used as a guest room and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's bedroom. I only had to make one trip to get my few things into the bedroom, where Harry was already waiting, seated on one of the twin beds, which Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had put in here for when Dudley had one of his friends sleeping over. I set my stuff down and sat across from him, glancing around at everything uneasily, even though I knew everything in here was already broken beyond repair, including the things Dudley had gotten for his birthday just a month before. The only things that looked untouched were several shelves full of books....well, at least I something to do, I couldn't really turn down a good book.   
  
The sound of Dudley bawling and screaming at his mother drifted up through the house from downstairs, making me sigh and shake my head. Just listening to him, even through walls and floors, gave me a headache. He was screaming and crying...over a room...I mean, honestly?  
  
Sighing softly once more, I flopped back on my bed and closed my eyes, stretching myself out on the covers, which I hadn't been able to do in a long while. I'd begun outgrowing my cot within the last couple of years and it'd started to become really cramped in my closet, although, right now....if I had my letter, I wouldn't have cared. Even if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had stuffed me in the cabinets under the sink I wouldn't have cared, so long as I had my letter, but....I didn't, and now I had to lay here without it. Perfect....  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Silence enveloped the breakfast table the next morning, leaving everyone to their own thoughts. I picked at my food sullenly, watching our aunt and uncle over the top of my glass. Dudley was numb with shock; yesterday, after he found out Harry and I would be taking his second bedroom as ours, he'd thrown the biggest tamptrum we'd ever seen. He'd screamed until he was hoarse, whacked his father so hard and frequently that Aunt Petunia had worried for a while if he'd had a concussion, made himself sick on purpose, even kicked his mother. And, finally, the tortoise that had the misfortune to be owned by Dudley, was thrown through the greenhouse roof, poor thing, but that got him no closer to getting his room back than it did when we were first given it. Harry and I exchanged bitter glances, reminding ourselves about this time yesterday when we'd found our letters....we should've opened them out in the hall, or waited until we could hide in Harry's cupboard so we could've talked about them....Our aunt and uncle kept exchanging dark looks.  
  
When it was time for someone to get the mail, Uncle Vernon, in an effort to be nice to Harry and I, and stay on our good side, asked Dudley to get it this morning. The sound of his Smelting stick coming into contact with everything he came across reached us through the kitchen door and I glanced at Harry, who was sitting in his chair, tensed to spring at a second's notice, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched in his lap. I chewed my lip, my eyes shooting to the kitchen door as Dudley called out that another couple of letters had arrived, but instead of saying our cupboard and closet, they now read 'The Smallest Bedroom'. Before he could even finish reading the address, however, his father leapt up with a strangled cry and charged from the room.  
  
I leapt up from my seat at the same second as Harry, pushing it backward as I prepared to run after him and Uncle Vernon, but something grabbed my collar, keeping me stationary while the boys charged down the hall. I glanced behind me, frowning, seeing Aunt Petunia had grabbed my collar and stopped me from joining in the tussle. I grit my teeth angrily, but didn't try to pull away as we stood in the kitchen door, watching the three by the front door. Uncle Vernon had wrestled Dudley to the floor while Harry had secured his arms around his neck from behind. There was a blur of colors and after a few minutes of a lot of screaming and yelps from those that got hit with the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon pulled himself upright, sending Harry back onto the carpet, looking up at him, wide-eyed, as he clutched our letters, wheezing breathlessly, his face red with anger.  
  
"Y-you two -" he jabbed his free finger at Harry and I, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "cupboard - clos - I mean - room - now," he managed to growl around his wheezing, "Dudley - just....just....go...."  
  
Harry paced the length of our room, his hands clenched at his sides, alternating between mumbling to himself and talking to me about the letters. It was obvious the letter sender somehow knew we'd changed rooms, just as they knew we hadn't gotten our first letters. They weren't going to give up sending us each a letter until we got them. Harry stopped in his pacing, meeting my gaze and I nodded my head; tomorrow, we would make sure we got our letters, they wouldn't fail. We had a plan to make sure of it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry and I were awoken by six o'clock the next morning by our repaired alarm clock, which we'd set purposefully so we could get up and sneak out of the house. If we could get the mail from the postman before he could deliver to the house, then we would be able to get our letters before Uncle Vernon could burn them. Harry quickly silenced the device as I jumped up, pulling the curtain closed between us so I could change, then I stole out of the room after him, both of us careful not to turn on any of the lights so we wouldn't wake any of the Dursleys. Unfortunately, there was a surprise waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.   
  
Harry crept down the stairs in front of me, being mindful of the last step, which creaked. I held his hand tightly, creeping behind him, sticking close to him to make sure I didn't step wrong. He carefully stepped over the bottom stair, but then he leapt backward with a yelp, falling against me, causing the two of us to fall back on the steps. He told me, quite fearfully, that he'd trodden on something big, squashy, and.... _alive!_  
  
Startled and sleepy voices floated down from upstairs as the lights flicked on and my blood ran cold; laying on the floor at the foot of the front door, in an old sleeping bag, obviously having expected Harry and I to try and sneak out to get the mail, was Uncle Vernon, whose face, we realized, Harry had trodden on. We were yelled at by our uncle for a good half an hour before he was told to go make him a cup of tea. Harry grumbled begrudgingly and shuffled off toward the kitchen, leaving me to sit on the bottom steps by my uncle, who rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. The mail slot opened suddenly and the six letters, three to Harry and three to me, slid through, landing in his lap with a _plop._   
  
I dove for them - pain flashed through my cheek and I landed on my side on the floor, looking up through watering eyes as my uncle snatched the letters up and began ripping them to pieces right in front of us.   
  
That day, Uncle Vernon took a sick leave and stayed home, boarding up the mail slot, while Aunt Petunia watched her husband worriedly, frowning deeply, even as she brought him a piece of fruitcake for a snack. Uncle Vernon used it as a hammer, chuckling insanely as he said something Harry and I were too far away to hear. We looked at each other, wondering what his problem was with the addresser of the letters; he seemed just as determined to keep us from our letters, for one reason or another. It was all very strange.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Twenty-four letters appeared in the mail for Harry and I that Friday, but instead of being pushed through the blocked mail slot, they were forced through the gaps in the door, under and through the sides. The mailman even found a way to force them through the downstair's bathroom window, which forced Uncle Vernon to take another sick day so he could board up all these gaps while our letters burned. By the time he was done, none of us would be able to get out of the house unless we had a ladder and we tried to get out through one of the second story windows. This was all getting so ridiculous, I mean, really, just because some letters were addressed to Harry and I, he had to get all crazy like this....I was afraid our uncle had finally gone off the deep end.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next morning yeilded no better, but actually, it only got crazier. Within the four dozen eggs our confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through our living room window were hidden forty-eight letters, which she promptly shred to pieces in her food processor while Uncle Vernon called the post office and dairy to find someone to yell at. Dudley looked at Harry and I with wide, astonished eyes, blinking slowly.   
  
"Who the heck wants to get in contact with _you two_ so badly?"   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A tired, rather ill, but peaceful look enveloped Uncle Vernon's face Sunday morning when he joined us at the breakfast table. I exchanged looks with Harry, feeling an uneasy tingle run through me; what was making him so gosh darn happy? I would've thought he'd been miserable for being so tired and ill, especially after the hectic week he had to endure. It soon became clear why he was so happy, though...  
  
"There isn't any post on Sundays," he informed us in a cheerful voice, mixing up spreading his marmalade on his newspaper instead of his toast. "there will be none of those damned letters coming tod -"  
  
Something whizzed through the open fire grate of the kitchen chimney, cuffing Uncle Vernon in the back of the head. He stammered, his face swelling, rapidly changing color until it was glowing red. Within seconds, sixty to eighty more letters followed the first, rapidly filling the kitchen around us, making the Dursleys duck in cover. Harry and I leapt to our feet at once, however, grabbing at the letters filling the kitchen, each of us trying to catch one. We only needed one, one each would be enough, just _one_ , _please...._  
  
Uncle Vernon's voice broke through my concentration and an arm gripped my waist, yanking me down from the table and across the kitchen into the hall, where I was tossed roughly onto the ground, whimpering as I landed on my arm. Harry grabbed my arm, halting me back as Aunt Petunia and Dudley rushed through the open kitchen door, which Uncle Vernon slammed shut behind them, the sounds of the letters bouncing around in the next room reaching us through the wall.   
  
"That's it, that is the final straw!" Uncle Vernon  said, in a would-be-calm voice as he pulled tufts of his mustache from his upper lip. "You had all better be packed and ready to leave in five minutes. We're leaving, going away, just be sure to pack some clothes, and DON'T YOU DARE ARGUE!"  
  
Seeing our uncle with half his mustache gone frightened us so badly neither Harry nor I argued, we just hurried upstairs to pack our clothes, rejoining the Dursleys downstairs just a few minutes later, Dudley sniffling from next to us as Uncle Vernon tore at the boards blocking the front door. From what we had heard, he had tried packing his television, VCR, and even his computer in his sports bag, which had held us all up and made Uncle Vernon box him around the ears, something he had never done before. He was still sniffling pitifully when we got in the car and Uncle Vernon took off. He drove us for miles upon miles, hour after hour, with none of us even speaking, except for Uncle Vernon, who kept muttering that we had to keep going, shake off the addresser of the letters they kept sending us. Harry and I looked worriedly at each other and I wondered what was going to happen to us now; would we continue to run from this person for the rest of our lives? And why in the world was Uncle Vernon so bent on keeping Harry and I from reading the letters we were being sent....did the letters contain something that would help us, that would make us happy? It could be possible, the Dursleys hated anything that made us happy, they tried to destroy or keep it from us. The only thing they couldn't destroy or take away from us was the other. Our friendship was something that could never be destroyed or taken away, no matter how much the Dursleys bullied or terrified us. Harry and I would always be there for each other, no matter what. My hand slipped into Harry's subconsciously, my fingers entwining with his, and he gave a gentle squeeze, smiling gently at me. I smiled gently back and leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing softly as I looked out the window next to us, watching the houses and buildings go by as Uncle Vernon drove.   
  
The day passed slowly and my head was pounding by the time we stopped at a hotel to get some sleep. Dudley was howling and complaining loudly about the lack of food and entertainment on the trip, having not gone so long without as much as a snack or even the opportunity to blow something up on his computer. He finally shut up when we got to our room and he passed out on one of the twin beds, giving us some peace and quiet, well...aside from his snoring, but that was like music to me now; anything aside from his whining and complaints were welcome here, especially after, not only such a crummy day, but also a disappointing week. Neither Harry nor I could sleep that night and we spent the hours until dawn sitting together on the windowsill, looking out over the quiet street. I lay in Harry's lap, my head against his chest as cars rolled down the street, their headlights flashing across the window. I played with Harry's fingers absent-mindedly as we whispered gently to one another, both of us wondering about the letters, the one who sent them....where could they be now? Were they still sending us letters, even though we weren't on Privet Drive anymore? Hm....hopefully...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stale cornflakes and cold canned tomatoes on toast made up our breakfast the next morning. The toast was dry and tasteless, the only taste identifiable that of the tomato. I made a face and shook my head, wiping my mouth when I was done with a sigh. As the last of the cornflakes and toast were eaten, the hotel owner joined us at our table, holding a couple of letters in her hand. She asked us if there was a Mr. H. Potter or Miss C. Power at the table, telling us a hundred letters with these names were at the front desk, waiting for the addressees. When she showed us the letters, they had my and Harry's names on them, along with our room number and the name of the hotel. Harry jumped to his feet to grab them, but Uncle Vernon smacked his hand back while something hit my chair, making it wobble while I clutched the table for support. The woman stared at us, her eyebrows raised in question.   
  
"I'll take those letters," Uncle Vernon told her as he stood and followed her from the dining room. Harry plopped back down in his chair, his eyes narrowed, as I clenched my hands in irritation. So close.   
  
~~~~~~~  
  
We were on the road again not too long afterward, continuing to drive as far from Privet Drive as Uncle Vernon could take us. Aunt Petunia suggested, timidly, that we return home to her husband, but he didn't appear to've heard her. None of us could even seem to figure out where in the world he was trying to take us or what he could be looking for. He drove us to remote locations, like a forest, a plowed field, the middle of a suspension bridge, and even the top of a multilevel parking garage, but none of them seemed to be good enough for us to hide and he just continued onward.   
  
I sighed tiredly as Uncle Vernon finally stopped at the coast and got out, disappearing into the misty rain surrounding us. Rain drummed the roof rhythmlesly, tapping the windows, leaving little dew like drops on the glass. Dudley sniffled, complaining about missing his favorite show, which often came on on Mondays. He told his mother he wanted to find a place where there was a television. I blinked slowly when he mentioned the day, mentally slapping myself in the head; Dudley always knew the day, thanks to his television programs, so we knew today was Monday and tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. I felt like a moron for forgetting such an important day, what with all the caos with the letters and Uncle Vernon's near mental breakdown. What kind of best friend was I for forgetting something like that? I was the only one who ever even acknowledged Harry's birthday or even attempted to make them at least somewhat enjoyable. The Dursleys never even tried to do anything for Harry....last year, they'd taken a clothes hanger from Uncle Vernon and Anut Petunia's closet and an old pair of socks from Uncle Vernon's sock drawer and given them to Harry as presents. I mean, really? Yeah, they put a lot of thoughts into their gifts, good job...and me? I scavenged change from under the furniture and between the cushions all year to get him a single cupcake and then I'd sneak food from my plate that day just so he'll have a little extra for his birthday...unfortunately, it was all I could do....but...it was better than what the Dursleys did...right? And tomorrow was his eleventh birthday, it only came once in a lifetime....but I couldn't do anything....could I? Well, I would have to try, even if there wasn't anything I could do for Harry, I would try for something and put at least some effort into making Harry's birthday enjoyable; just the thought of being as thoughtless as the Dursleys made my heart clench painfully and my skin crawl unpleasantly. Well...for that reason and another....  
  
Uncle Vernon had finally returned and a rather triumphant smile decorated his face, causing an uncomfortable shiver to run the length of my spine. I pursed my lips, eyeing the long, thin parcel under his arm, wondering what could be inside, knowing for certain it wasn't a birthday present for Harry. It looked too nice....  
  
"I've found us the perfect hiding place!" he told us triumphantly, still smiling widely. "Out of the car, everyone, come along! It's this way."  
  
I shivered as we stepped out into the cold, dreary air, rubbing my arm to warm myself up. Harry held my hand and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close so we could share our body warmth. Out on the crashing, salty waves, I could see what looked like an old, craggily, misshapen shack perched atop an unsteardy bit of rock. I gulped at the sight, getting an uneasy feeling....I didn't think going out to that rock was such a good idea....it didn't look all that safe....Uncle Vernon was definately on the brink of insanity if he expected us to spend even one night in such an unstable looking structure. I think I would rather take a chance sleeping outside then set one foot on that rock.   
  
"Storm's brewing up tonight!" Uncle Vernon told us cheerfully, sanding his hands together happily. "And we've managed to get a ride to our nice little vacation spot, thanks to this kind gentleman lending us his boat!"  
  
He guestered to the toothless man who'd ambled up out of the thin mist around us. I gulped uneasily at the wicked grin turning his lips upward, following his finger to the dingy old rowboard bobbing in the rolling, iron-gray water below. I scooted closer to Harry and his arm tightened around me as he frowned deeply, narrowing his eyes uneasily, looking as though he agreed with my preferrence to sleeping outside in the rain instead of going to the rock.  
  
"Got us some rations for the night, so let's get going," Uncle Vernon said, ushering us toward the boat.  
  
The ride toward the craggy rock was a miserable one, even more so than the one we'd endured just to get this far. The wind coming off the water was freezing, biting and stinging our exposed skin; the seat spray created by the waves hitting the sides of the boat only made it worse, as they wet our clothes and rolled down our necks, like the finger of death tracing our spines in an unspoken promise. We shivered as our clothes pressed to our bodies, intensifying the cold chill of the sea wind buffeting us on all sides and I suddenly longed for the warmth of a hot bath. Hours seemed to pass and it was somewhat of a relief to finally reach the rock, allowing us escape from the thrashing waves, but the biting wind persued us to the front door until it was closed between us, but even within these four walls the wind persisted to reach us through holes and gaps in the wood. The scent of seaweed perfumed the air thickly and I wrinkled my nose at the damp smell, shivering uncomfortably and shaking as I glanced around at the two rooms that made up the entirity of the shack. The fireplace that sat within the main room was empty and just as damp as the rest of the house, which would make it harder to start a fire for warmth....  
  
Our rations consisted of a single bag of chips and a banana each, our garbage used as food for the fire Uncle Vernon tried to start. I stashed by food stealthily under the thinnest blanket Aunt Petunia had found, which I knew would be my and Harry's; I wanted to save it for Harry for his birthday tomorrow, he deserved the food more than I did, turning to watch the four chip bags shrivel and smoke within the fireplace. Uncle Vernon only made a cheerful remark about how he wished he had a few of our letters to burn to make a better fire and I exchanged glances with Harry, both of us knowing Uncle Vernon didn't expect someone, not even our letter sender, would try to bring us mail here, especially in a storm like the one he said we were supposed to have tonight. I silently sighed in agreement, scratching the back of my arm and looking at my lap sadly at the thought.   
  
The forecasted storm blew up around us as the sun set, the churring clouds obscuring the moon and stars from view. The shack shook with the force of the sea spray hitting the walls from the outside, the dirty windows rattling from the spray and wind beating against them. Aunt Petunia lay Dudley down on the makeshift bed she'd made for him on the sofa, wrapping him in the thickest blankets she could find to keep him warm, leaving Harry and I on the wooden floor with the thinnest of the blankets while she joined Uncle Vernon on the lumpy bed in the next room. Harry and I hunted around for the softest bit of floor before we lay down side by side, curling up together under our ragged blanket, cuddling to each other for warmth, with me leaning my head against Harry's chest and his face buried in my hair, his eyes closed, but I could tell he couldn't sleep either. We lay together listening to the storm intensify little by little every hour, shivering together as we tried to get comfortable without letting go of one another. My stromach clenched with hunger and I sighed, turning over on my other side and snuggling back against Harry as he snuggled against my back, burying his face in my shoulder, glancing toward the bottom of the sofa to make sure my stash was still hidden before I looked at the watch wrapped around Dudley's fat wrist, blinking at the lit up face to check the time, thunder rumbling overhead, drowning out Dudley's snore. Harry's eleventh birthday was only ten minutes away and I looked back at him, running my fingers through his bangs and pointing to the watch, making him lift his head. We watched the seconds tick by, bringing his birthday closer and closer, whispering to one another again, about the Dursleys and our letter sender, wondering where they could be now and hoping they were safe and dry unlike us.   
  
A creaking noise drew my attention away from Dudley's watch and I rolled over onto my back, peering around cautiously, wondering where that noise had come from, hoping silently that the roof wouldn't fall in on us as I continued to whisper to Harry, promising him that, when we got home, if the Dursley's house was full to capacity with letters, that I would be sure to try and grab one for each of us if I could, so we could finally figure out what they said, find out what all the fuss had been about so we could put it to rest once and for all.   
  
A sound similiar to that of rock crunching under shoes sounded from outside and I glanced at the nearest window, unease prickling at my spine, feeling like someone, or something, was coming. I gulped and snuggled against Harry as he whisper counted the last few seconds down until his birthday, but as soon as he reached zero, there came a shuddering hit to the door -  
  
 **BOOM!**  
  
The shack around us shuddered at the force and Harry sat bolt upright with me in his arms as we whirled around to stare at the door, our breath catching in our throats. We had a visitor and they sounded very, very eager to come in. 


	4. The Game and Key Keeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I sincerely apologize for the long wait for this chapter, I didn't mean to take so long, but I have two other fanfictions I work on, so I rotate working on each of them, so it takes me a little bit of time. I appreciate all of you who follow my story, though, and I appreciate all of you waiting patiently for this update. I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> ~ScarletMarieLeafHamato

The shack shuddered with the force of the next knock that came into contact with the door. Dudley jerked upright, blinking and looking around drowsily.

"Where's the cannon?" he asked stupidly, still mostly asleep.

A crash behind us nearly caused me to jump clear our of my skin and I whirled around in Harry's arms, watching as Uncle Vernon skid into the room, holding a rifle up, finally clearing up the mystery of the long, thin box he'd bought with us from the mainland.

"Who's there?!" he demanded. "I'm armed! I'm warning you, I'm not afraid to shoot!"

Silence enveloped us for a moment, then another shuddering crash hit the door, knocking it clear off it's hinges and onto the floor. Dust and dirt flew up into the air, swirling and floating there for a moment before it settled thickly upon the door and floor once more. Standing in the doorframe was a giant of a man, his face surrounded in a tangle of hair, which consisted of a long mane of hair and wild tangle of a beard. I tilted my head back slightly, seeing a pair of twinkling, beetle black eyes winking out at us from among the tangle of hair.

Squeezing himself through the door, the giant had to stoop just slightly, so the top of his head brushed the ceiling. Bending at the waist, he picked the door up and fitted it back into its frame, muffling the sounds of the storm outside in the process. Once he was satisfied, he turned to the rest of us.

"Ah, that's better, don't fancy any o' yeh could make us a cup o' tea, eh? It's been a long trip...."

He strode across the room, pausing in front of the couch, where Dudley now sat, frozen in fear.

"Budge up there, yeh great lump." the giant growled.

Dudley gave a highpitched squeak and scrambled over to his parents, hiding himself behind his mother, who was crouched in terror behind her husband, her eyes wide, color drained from her face.

"Ah, here you two are! 'Ello, Harry, Cheyenne, it's good to see yeh again." the giant said in a happy voice, turning his attention on us now. Harry and I tilted our heads back to look up into the fiercy wild, shadowy face; his beetle black eyes were wrinkled at the corners, indicating a smile.

"You two were babies the las' time I saw yeh," he told us with a soft chuckle. "Harry, yeh look like yer dad, but yeh have yer mum's eyes. And Cheyenne, yeh're beautiful like yer mum. Yer probably sweet like her and yer dad, too, eh?"

Uncle Vernon made a sound similar to that of someone being choked.

"I demand you leave here at once, sir!" he said, in as strong a voice as he was able to produce. "You have broken into our home, that is against the law and I could very well have you arrested for it!"

"Ah, shut up yeh great prune," the stranger said, reaching across the back of the couch and snatching the gun from Uncle Vernon's hands. As though it was made of nothing but rubber, he bent the gun into the shape of a pretzel, then tossed it off into a corner.

Uncle Vernon squeaked pitifully, like a mouse being trodden upon.

"Well, anyway, Harry," the giant returned his attention to Harry and I, smiling cheerfully to Harry. "I've wanted ta wish yeh a happy birthday! I've got summat here fer yeh - it might be a little squashed seeing as I mighta sat on it at one point or another, but it should taste fine all the same."

He reached into his black coat, which looked to be made of many different kinds of material, material that looked used to make the many different kinds of pockets that took up the entirity of the coat. From an inside pocket, he withdrew a small, slightly squashed box. I stepped forward and gently took the box from him before I moved back to Harry, who stepped up beside me, reaching a shaky hand out for the lid of the box. Inside was a large chocolate cake, the top of which was decorated in green icing that read out _Happy Birthday, Harry._

Harry and I looked up at the giant again and I gulped, unsure what to say, if I should thank him for giving my best friend such a wonderful gift, something he had never gotten before. But then, I also wanted to know who this giant was and how in the world he knew either of us. Something about him though....something was....familiar....somehow....but what? Why....? Why was something familiar about him? Why did it feel like I'd seen him somewhere before? Harry had already asked the giant who he was before I could collect my thoughts together or ask the same question. Our new friend chuckled lightly.

"Hm, I 'pose I haven't introduced meself properly, then. The name's Rubeus Hagrid and I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out his hand, which was as wide as a frying pan and took Harry's smaller one, shaking the whole length of his arm.

"Now, how about that tea, eh?" he said once he had released Harry's hand, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Although if yeh have summat stronger, I wouldn't say no to it."

He turned his attention to the empty gate now, raising his eyebrows in disapproval when he saw the four shriveled chip bags laying within. With a snort, he leaned forward, blocking our view of the fireplace for a moment, leaving us to wonder what he was doing . When he leaned back a few seconds later, a fire was blazing brightly in the grate. Warmth rushed over us as the damp hut was filled with its' warmth and light, bringing life back into the miserable little building; I shivered and sighed contently, feeling as though I'd just sunk into a nice hot bath. My skin warmed, goosebumps causing the hair all over my body to raise in pleasure and I shuddered softly, closing my eyes to enjoy the warmth, forgetting where I was for a moment as I let it roll over me, like the waves crashing on the rocks outside. With another soft sigh, I let my eyes flutter open, half expecting to find myself in the Dursley's bathroom, laying in the tub, steam raising in the air around me, coating the mirror in a thin veil as I soaked in the hot water. Only the crackling fire grreeted my vision, the dark firepit encircling it bringing me back to the dark hut, the bright vision slowly fading, leaving me feeling a little cooler than before, but a bit more relaxed than I had before the fire had been lit.

Hagrid sat down on the couch, which promptly sagged under his weight as he reached into his coat again and began pulling all sort of things out from within, which included a teapot, a copper kettle, and a package of squishy sausages. Soon, the scent and sound of sizziling meat filled the hut, making my stomach growl and clench in hunger. No one spoke as he cooked, but I could hear Dudley whimper hungrily behind us and Uncle Vernon told him sharply not to accept anything from the giant, who chuckled darkly in response.

"Eh, yer son don' need any more fattenin' up, Dursley, don' worry. These sausages are fer Harry and Cheyenne."

He passed the sausages to Harry and I as he spoke, both of us taking them hungrily, our stomachs growling loudly in unison. I was so hungry I didn't even care that I would be eating something I didn't usually like, I just ate happily, enjoying the juice that rolled over my tongue every time my teeth sank into the soft meat, not even minding as it burned the roof of my mouth or tip of my tongue. Chewing slowly to savor the taste, I looked up at the giant, silently, still curious about him. No one spoke or looked ready to explain, so I sighed softly, reluctantly pulling the sasuage from my mouth, trying not to let the loss of taste distract me as I put my plate in my lap. However, before I could open my mouth, Harry spoke for the two of us, "I'm sorry if I'm being rude, but neither Chey nor I really know who you are...."

"You can just call me Hagrid," he told us with a smile, "everyone does, an' I just told yeh, I'm the Hogwarts games and key keeper - yeh two should know all about Hogwarts, though, eh?"

"U-um....no...unfortunately not," I said timidly, chewing my bottom lip slightly, a twinge of guilt piercing my heart at not knowing what the man before us was talking about, feeling as thought, perhaps, I should know about this. Shock swept across the only visible part of Hagrid's face and I winced slightly, looking down shamefully, feeling like perhaps I'd just hurt his feelings.

"Sorry, Hagrid....." Harry and I said earnestly.

 _"You're_ sorry?! _Yeh two are sorry?!"_ Hagrid barked, turning his heated gaze on the Dursleys. I winced again, looking up at him again before I stole a look slowly over my shoulder, watching as they all flinched and backed away into the shadows. "The two of yeh shouldn't be sorry! It's them that should be the sorry ones! I knew neither o' yeh were gettin' yer letters, but I didn't know neither o' yeh knew something important like this! Yeh don't know about Hogwarts?! Didn't either of yeh wonder where either of yeh parents learned it all?"

"L-learned what....?" I asked timidly, my interest immediately peeked as he mentioned our parents, my and Harry's mothers and fathers; Hagrid knew our parents? Maybe he had been friends with them! Did that mean he could tell us things about them that the Dursleys had refused to? My heart leapt at the thought and I tightened my hands around the paper plate in front of me, ignoring the burning feel of the paper digging into my palms as anticipation curled in my heart and I turned hopeful eyes on the giant once more.

"Learned _WHAT?!"_ Hagrid bellowed, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Now jus' one bloody second!"

He shot to his feet, hitting the couch back with a loud clatter and towered over everyone, seeming to fill the whole, drafty hut with his anger. The Dursleys were pressed back against the wall now, cowering like mice being cornered by a hungry cat. I gulped and scooted back timidly, watching him with wide eyes, unsure what he would do, but hoping he wouldn't do anything violent. It was frightening seeing someone as big as Hagrid angry like this....it reminded me of a grizzly bear who had his fish taken away.

"Do yeh mean ter tell me," he growled angrily, narrowing his eyes dangerously on the Dursleys, trembling with tremendous anger, "that these two, this girl and boy, know nothin' abou' where they come from, about _who they **are?!"**_

Harry and I looked at each other uneasily....we didn't know anything about who we are...? That was a little uncalled for; we knew exactly who we were, I mean, sure, we didn't know who our parents were, we couldn't even remember them, but...we did know who we were. And we weren't stupid, we had gone to school and we didn't do that bad, really.....

"H-hey, wait, we know who we are....yeah, we don't know our parents, but...we do know who we are. And we know somethings....we do go to school...our marks aren't that bad...." I told him, hoping that would calm him down a little bit.

Hagrid waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head, "No no, this has nothing to do with what yeh learn at _those_ schools and neither o' yeh know the truth about yerselves, about yer parents! Neither of yeh know about our world, your world, either o' yer parents world!"

"W-what...? What are you talking about?" I asked softly, wondering exactly what he was trying to tell us; what world was he even talking about? I looked at Harry to see if he understood anything the giant had said, but he looked just as lost as I did, his eyebrows arched in question as he turned his emerald eyes on me, blinking slowly before he looked at Hagrid once more.

"U-um....Mister Hagrid, what....what world are you even talking about? Neither Chey or I really understand...."

Hagrid stared at the two of us like we had each just grown an extra head on our shoulders. Then, his eye twitched and the part of his face that we could see turned ruby red, just like Uncle Vernon's did when he was on the verge of exploding. I flinched insticntively away, curling in on myself as a way to try and protect myself from any damage, physical or otherwise that I knew was probably coming, a natural reaction from years of living with the Dursleys and under Uncle Vernon's thumb. Everytime I saw that shade in his cheeks, I just knew a beating or lashing was coming....it'd just been the way he and Aunt Petunia had raised us, so it was normal...wasn't it?

"DURSLEY!" he bellowed, turning fiery eyes on our aunt and uncle. Uncle Vernon paled considerably, looking like someone had just turned him into a ghost and he mumbled something to himself, pursing his lips tightly, avoiding Hagrid's gaze. He huffed and turned away from the Dursleys again, staring at Harry and I with wide, wild eyes as I slowly looked up at him again, still subconsciously awaiting the hit to fall.

"B-but, eh, yeh....one o' yeh must know yer moms and dads, yeh must know about them....I-I mean...after everything they've done...after what you two did....yer parents were _famous, yeh two are famous!"_

"W-we're... _what?!_  B-but....our parents....they weren't....they weren't really famous, were they?"

"Neither o' yeh know....yeh don' know...." Hagrid ran a trembling hand through his wild hair. He stared at Harry and I with wide, bewildered eyes, his beard quivering anxiously as he looked at a loss for what to do.

"So neither o' yeh know what yeh are? Neither of yeh know of yer heritage?!" he finally managed to get out, still looking lost and bewildered.

Uncle Vernon's voice suddenly joined the conversation from behind us, sharp and commanding as he told Hagrid to stop, saying he was forbidden from telling either Harry or I anything else. Hagrid turned to him once more, fire in his twinkling black eyes, but Uncle Vernon did not wither under his furious gaze. He certainly had nerve if he was willing to stand up to a man ten times his size, who looked about ready to snap him in half for keeping....whatever he'd been keeping from us for ten years....rage dripped from his every syllable as he spoke, similiar to if someone was using a great deal of sarcasm.

"You never told them, you never told either of them the truth, about what Dumbledore wrote in the letter he left for them? I was there that day, I was there when we gave Harry and Cheyenne to you! I personally saw Dumbledore leave that letter, don't you dare deny it Dursley! An' you kept the truth, you kept the letter from these two for all these years!"

"What have they kept from us?" Harry and I asked him together, the two of us leaning forward eagerly, wanting to know what exactly the Dursleys had been keeping from us all these years.

"STOP! NOT ANOTHER WORD, I FORBID IT!" Uncle Vernon shouted in a squeaky voice. His eyes were wide in panic and I could see even more color drain from his face, if that was even possible, as his face had been as pale as it could be just seconds before, making him appear translucent. Aunt Petunia gasped in horror, her eyes widening and face paling as well.

"Ah, both of yeh go boil yer heads," Hagrid said, waving his hand dismissively toward them. "Harry, yer a wizard - Cheyenne, yer a witch."

Silence enveloped all of once more as Harry and I stared in disbelief up at the giant before we slowly turned our attention away from him so we could look at each other, both our eyes wide. The waves crashing on the rocks outside became the only noise, accompanying the sound of the piercing, whistling air, only sounds about us now, acting as background noise to our conversation as Harry and I tried to absorb what Hagrid had just told us.

"Wha...Hagrid, what? We're _what?!"_ Harry and I gasped together, snapping our attention back to the giant.

"A witch and a wizard, o' course." Hagrid said, as though it was the simplest thing to say in the world as he took his seat on the sofa again, causing it to groan and sink closer to the floor. "an' a couple o' thumpin' good'uns, if yeh ask my opinion, yeh both just need some training, that's all. With yer moms and dads the way they were, it's hard for the two of yeh not to be. Now, I think it's time yeh both finally got yer letters."

I gulped thickly, my heart quickening as I reached a shaky hand out to finally take the thick yellow envelope addressed to me. Warmth spread through my body, faster and faster with each pump of blood through my veins. My palms heated up, slickening with sweat as anticipation raced through me. My muscles suddenly felt laden, as though I'd just lifted a couple of heavy weights or boxes, but it felt good instead of tiring, like it usually would be. Just being able to finally read something Harry and I had strived so hard and long to grasp relieved me, it felt good, like I had just been relieved of a heavy burden. Ripping a hole through the top, I pulled the letter from within and unfolded it so I could read what it said, my hands trembling as I held the letter up to the light to be able to read it properly.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**

**of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merline, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chif. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Miss Power,

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed with this letter is a list of all the necessary equipment and books you will need for the following school year.

Our term will begin on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

My mind was flooded with a slew of questions, each fighting for it's own right to be the first to be asked and I gulped thickly, finding it difficult to find my voice again. What....what was this....this couldn't....no, it...could it? Was this all real? Could I really....could Harry....? What in the world was going on? Witches, wizards....magic...I just couldn't seem to wrap my brain fully around all of this.

Slowly looking away from the letter, I turned my gaze silently on Hagrid, opening my mouth to try and speak but finding my voice was still reluctant to be found again, so I quickly closed it again before I looked like a brainless lump. The giant was already busy pulling more things out of overcoat, which included a roll of parchment, a long quill, and a -! Was that an owl, a real, living, breathing _owl?!_  How could he -? No, why would he....? I understood almost immediately, though, as Hagrid handed the rolled up parchment to the owl, who took it in its beak as he was carried to the front door and tossed it out into the storm. I was still staring at him, dumbfounded, as he rejoined us in front of the fire, looking as at ease as though he'd simply just gone to answer a call on the telephone.

"Now...where was I?" Hagrid asked thoughtfully as he tapped his chin. It was at that point that our uncle decided to speak up again as he took a few steps forward, his face ashen, but fury still evident in his blazing eyes.

"They are not going," he growled.

Hagrid grunted and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure a great Muggle like you could stop a great witch and wizard like them,"

"A, wait, a what? What did you just call Uncle Vernon?" I asked curiously, cocking my head slightly in confusion. A wave of anticpation accompanied my curiousity. I had never heard of a Muggle before, was it a term wizards used to describe something or someone like Uncle Vernon. Was it perhaps a swear word? Heat touched my cheeks at the thought, but then....would Hagrid have used it so lightly if it was? My stomach clenched as the urge to learn everything I could about this world welled up inside me. Could it really be real? It couldn't be, yet...a voice in the back of my mind was telling me, it possibly could be, the same voice that kept nagging at me, telling me I knew Hagrid from somewhere, that I had seen him once before. If it was real, then I wanted to know everything, I wanted to know every little fact, I wanted to know everything about that world, I wanted to know all the spells, the history behind magic, everything and anything about it. If this world was real, then it was where Harry and I truly belonged, it was our world, the world our parents shared and had grown up in. I wanted to know everything I could about it, no matter what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia said. I just didn't think I could forget something like this and I would probably regret not trying to find out more about it, not now, not tomorrow, but when I was older, when I looked back on this day with Harry when we were adults and we were left to wonder about all this because we hadn't tried to find out about it when we had the chance.

"He's a Muggle," Hagrid informed us casually. "it's the name of those without magical blood, just like yer aunt and uncle. Yeh two had the misfortune ta have ta be related to the biggest family o' Muggles I've ever seen, too."

"The day we took these two in, Petunia and I swore we would stamp all that rubbish out of them. Out of _both_ of them! A witch and a wizard indeed, I tell you!" Uncle Vernon growled.

"Wait, the lot of you knew?!" Harry cut in, shooting to his feet to whirl on our uncle, "All of you knew Chey and I....that we were a witch and a wizard?!"

"Knew!?!" Aunt Petunia shrieked loudly, making me jump in surprise, having forgotten that she was still there. I turned quickly to look at her, shifting to stand up next to Harry, who took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, my nerves settling at the simple, tender gesture, knowing my best friend was there and would be there no matter what, just like he'd always been. "Why wouldn't we know, especially after both your mothers got their own bloody letters and then disappeared off to that....that _school_....at the end of every school year, they would both return home and show off what they learned, changing one thing into another, teacups into rats, their pockets full to bursting with the strangest of things! My parents were blind to what they truly were, they were blind to how truly freakish their daughter and adopted daughter were! But no, they thought they were the most brilliant girls in the world, it was always about Lily and Kristen, about how smart and strong they were. Having a couple of witches in the family just made my parents so very proud!"

She stopped to take a deep breath, her face twisted in fury, although I could see some of the tension leaving her, as though she was letting out all the feelings she had probably been holding in all these years.

"Then they met those Potter and Power boys and the lot of them got married and had the pair of you. I knew, I knew from the moment you two drew breath that you would both be just as strange, as abnormal as your parents, freaks just like them! And then we had to get stuck raising the two of you after all your parents went and got themselves blown up!"

Shock kept me frozen in place as I stared at our aunt in disbelief, shaking my head slowly, trying to get my mind wrapped around all of this, trying to understand the story she had just told us as one thing registered in my mind. "Wait...blown up? That, that wasn't what you told us before! You told us our moms and dads died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" Hagrid roared angrily, leaping to his feet so quickly it caused the Dursleys to shrink back against the wall. "A car crash?! A CAR CRASH?! How could something like that possibly kill Lily an' James Potter or even Kristen an' Mark Power!? That's just outragous! It's jsut a scandal! Neither Harry Potter nor Cheyenne Power know their own story because o' you! Every child their age and lower in our world knows both their names!"

"But why?! Why does everyone know our names like that? What happened?" Harry asked, leaning eagerly toward Hagrid as I cocked my head curiously, frowing my brows in thought. The urge to want to learn of this world, to know everything about the world in which my and my best friend's parents had come from, the world where my best friend and I truly belonged, was overwhelmed by my curiousity of learning what had really happened to our parents, of what had taken them from us and forced us to have to be raised by the Dursleys and left us with no knowledge of our parents or even where we truly came from until tonight.

Almost as soon as it had appeared, the anger faded from Hagrid's face and was soon replaced by anxiousy.

"I didn't expect somethin' like this...." Hagrid said slowly, his voice low, full of anxiousy and worry as he ran a hand through his wild mane of hair. "I didn't even know....not even when Dumbledore asked me to brin' yeh yer letters. He told me there would be trouble jus' tryin' ta get a hold of yeh. But this....neither o' yeh know anythin'? Oh, Harry, Cheyenne....I don' think I'm the right person ter tell the two o' yeh the truth....but...I 'uppose someone has to....neither o' yeh can go off ter school without knowin'...."

He tossed a dirty look over his shoulder at the still cowering Dursleys in the corner. Harry and I exchanged expectant looks before we returned our attention to the giant, both of us scooting a little closer in order to hear the story he was about to tell us, neither of us saying a word; we didn't want to miss anything, especially since we knew it would finally tell us what eactly had happened to our parents and clear up the mystery of our past.

"Well....I'd best tell yeh what I can...I don't know everythin', mind, so there maybe somthin's I won't be able ta tell yeh. Some parts of what happened are a bit of a myst'ry."

He took a seat on the couch once more, sighing softly as he stared into the flickering orange flames, turning his beetle black eyes a flickering yellow and white color. It was a few minutes before he spoke, his voice low, taking on the quality of a story-teller, his voice thick with emotion, a somewhat mystic edge to it that drew in our attention, made us want to listen as we leaned in further, as though he was whispering it, although his volume was at normal indoor levels. "Well...this story doesn't immediately begin with the two of you...but with a person called - not even knowin' about him....it's incredible....everyone in our world knows his name just as much as they know both o' yers..."

"W-who is it...?"

"Well...I don't like ter say his name....no one in our world does..."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, even after all these years, people are still scared. Blimey...I didn' know it would be this difficult....look, a long time ago, even before both yer parents were born, there was a wizard that went bad, as bad as anyone could go. He was named....um..."

Hagrid broke off with a gulp, looking down at his lap silently, looking unsure.

"M-maybe you could write it down, then?" I asked, cocking my head slightly.

Hagrid shook his head, "Nah, I don' know how ta spell it....All right," he took a deep breath and shuddered, "His name was.... _Voldemort_...." I blinked in surprise at seeing how scared he got just saying the name. Was the man he was talking about really that scary? Was he really that frightening? He must have been, if every wizard or witch was frightened of him....if he had really been the one to take our parents away and leave Harry and I as orphans...he had to truly be frightening and cruel, too if he really did such things..."Please, don' make me say it again....anyway...this evil wizard was at the tip of power about twenty years ago, which was around the time he started looking fer followers. It wasn' hard fer him ter find 'em, either, bullied some o' 'em ter follow him, some followed him because they wanted some o' his power. He had himself some power, too, all right. Those were dark days....dark dark days....It was hard ter know who ter trust, hard ter know who ter make friends with....terrible things happened then....He was takin' over everythin' and he killed anyone that stood up ter him. It was horrible, there weren' any safe places left, except perhaps Hogwarts. It seems Dumbledore's the only wizard You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. He didn't dare ter take the school then.

"Now, both yer mums and dads were as good a couple o' witches and wizards as I ever had the pleasure ter know. Yer mum, Harry, was a prefect with yer dad, Cheyenne, then Harry's mum was Head Girl and Cheyenne, yer dad was Head Boy in their time....although, why Voldemort didn' try ter recruite them fer his side is a myst'ry....maybe he knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want to join the Dark Side....

"He probably thought he could persuade 'em....or maybe he jus' wanted 'em outta his way. The only thing anyone knows is he found the village where you all were hiding and he went to find yeh. He turned up at yer house ten years ago, on Halloween night, when the two of yeh were only one year olds. And then....he...."

A dirty, spotted handkerchief was suddenly pulled from an inner pocket of his jacket and with a sound like that of a foghorn, Hagrid blew his nose. I could feel a twinge work it's way through my heart at that as I realized what could have happened...our moms and dads....that Halloween night...the night we became orphans. I squeezed Harry's hand tightly, shaking, and looked down, tilting to lean my head against his shoulder; his hand squeezed mine in return and I could feel him lean his cheek against the top of my head without a word.

"I'm sorry...." he sniffled sadly, wiping his nose, tears still glistening in his dark eyes. "It's jus'....very sad...yer mums an' dads were such nice people an' it was horrible what happened ter 'em. But....anyway....

"You-Know-Who killed 'em and then....somethin' really strange happened....he tried ter killed the two of you, too. Maybe he wanted to make a clean job of it all...or maybe he just liked killin' people by then. But, fer whatever reason, he just couldn' do it. Did neither o' yeh wonder where yeh got those marks on yer foreheads? They ain't no ordinary cuts. Those marks are the result of being touched by a powerful, evil curse - yeh two survived the curse that killed both yer mums an' dads, the curse that even destroyed yer house. Somehow, you two survived and that's what made the two of yeh famous, Harry, Cheyenne. No one has ever survived a curse like that, especially not after You-Know-Who decided ter kill 'em, not until the two of yeh, an' he's taken the lives of some o' the best witches and wizards of our age....an' yeh two, only babies, yeh _lived!"_

I could feel the muscles working around my skull, pressing painfully on my temples as I listened to the story, flashes of that hauntingly familiar dream I'd had before moving in and out of my focus. I groaned and clenched my eyes, green flashing behind my eyelids, the familiar green light in clearer forcus than before. The laughter twisted in and out of it, loud and cold, like someone celebrating a long awaited victory. For the first time in my life, for the first time after hearing that laugh for ten years, the laugh that had haunted and plagued my dreams and subconsciousness, I felt a shiver run the length of my spine and I jerked my head to the side, jerking it unconsciously off Harry's shoulder, rubbing my arm to smooth the hair that had risen back down into a neutral position, slowly lifting my gaze to meet Hagrid's sad one.

"I was there....Dumbledore asked me ter get the two of yeh and I took yeh from yer ruined house. Had to leave yeh in the care of this lot..."

"Now that's just a load of old tosh," Uncle Vernon snapped suddenly, startling us again as we were reminded of his and the rest of the Dursley's presence once more. His courage had returned, as well as the rubby red to his cheeks. His eyes were narrowed as he took a few giant steps forward, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Now you two listen to me," he snarled, flashing a hand forward and knotting his fingers in my hair, yanking me backward toward him. I yelped in surprise and whimpered, reaching back to grab his hand, but his free hand grabbed my wrist, squeezing it painfully, stilling my movements. I could feel pained tears stinging the back of my eyes, swimming in my gaze and threatening to spill forth. Harry turned quickly, his eyes widening and his hand holding mine tightly, his lips tightening protectively as he glared at our uncle over my head. I looked at him, a few small tears rolling down my cheeks and he turned his attention to me, pain flashing in his gaze for a second, looking as though he did not know what he could do to help free me from Uncle Vernon's grasp. His palm trembled against mine and I tightened my hand once more, silently telling him to stay there; I couldn't let him get hurt too...I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he did. "It's not hard to see that the two of you are strange, something I'm sure a good beating could take care of. As for your parents, both sets of them, I won't deny just how weird they were and if you ask my opinion, I think the world's better off without the lot of them, getting themselves mixed up with those wizarding types, they got what they deserved. But what can you really expect from freaks like them, I always knew they would meet a sticky end -"

The couch jumped backward with a clatter and a loomingly menacing shadow overtook the crackling firelight. Hagrid towered over all of us, holding a tattered pink umbrella out in front of him like a sword, which he had pointed directly at Uncle Vernon, just over my head. His dark eyes glittered and flashed like the fire behind him as he glared down at Uncle Vernon, his hand tightening around the umbrella, "Don't say another word, Dursley, I warn you now, I swear you will regret it, I will make sure of it. Let go of Cheyenne, now."

Uncle Vernon made a choking noise, like his throat had closed and I could feel the hand loosen in my hair, the other release my wrist. Harry noticed it at the same second as I did and he tugged on my hand as I pulled quickly out of his hold and scrambled forward again. Uncle Vernon stumbled back at the same second and I fell into Harry's arms, snuggling against his chest and trembling as he wrapped an arm around my waist, brushing some hair out of my face reassuringly, back into the body of my hair.

"That's better," Hagrid sighed, panting heavily as he fixed the couch and sat down once more, causing it to sag right to the floor. Harry rubbed my back as we looked up at the giant again, both of us burning with questions. He leaned his cheek against my head again, squeezing my waist and hand together, encouraging me to speak first, knowing I had questions just as much as he did.

"S-so....Hagrid, what happened to this wizard....Vol - no, wait, sorry...um, You-Know-Who?"

"Now that is a good question, Cheyenne. He just disappeared, vanished, right after he tried ter kill the two of you. It makes the two of yeh even more famous. That's the biggest part of the myst'ry....he was gettin' himself so much power....and then he just disappeared....

"Some think he's died...I personally don' think he was human enough to die....others think maybe he's still out there, hidin', bidin' his time, but I don' know....people who supported him returned ter our side. Some of 'em were released from their trances...they would probably still be under his control if he was comin' back....

"Most of us think perhaps he's still out there, powerless, weak...unable to move. There was somethin' about you two that stumped him, Harry, Cheyenne....something happened that night that he hadn't been countin' on, somethin' no one knows about, but yeh two...yeh really did stump him."

When Harry and I looked up into his kind eyes, it wasn't hard to see the warmth and respect blazing in their depths and I felt something clutch at my heart. Pleasure and pride were the furtherest thing I felt right now...this all had to be some kind of mistake or something. I could somewhat wrap my mind around the possibility that Harry was a wizard and that I was a witch, but....defeating the darkest wizard of all time, just as _infants?!_ How....it couldn't be possible, could it? I mean...I'd always known we'd been different, but we couldn't truly be that special, could we? Doing something like that, it was just impossible, unthinkable, we couldn't have possibly done it, could we have?  
"Hagrid...." Harry said slowly, quietly. "There has to be some kind of mistake here....Chey and I can't be a witch and a wizard...we just....can't..."

Hagrid chuckled at his words and Harry looked at me in surprise while I looked slowly back at him, knowing he was having a harder time absorbing what we were than I was. I smiled weakly and tilted my head slightly.

"Not a witch and wizard, eh? So neither o' yeh ever made strange things happen when one o' yeh was scared or angry?"

Harry looked at me once more and I smiled again, cocking my head, gently pointing out all the strange and unusual things we had done, things we couldn't explain when we were, indeed, upset or scared.` I reminded him of the sweater, spraying Uncle Vernon with the hose, getting out of our tormentors reach when they were threatening to beat us up, unintentionally getting our revenge on Dudley and Piers after they'd punched us by setting the boa constrictor on them. With each example I provided him, I could see realization and acceptance blazing in my best friend's eyes and slowly a smile started to spread across his lips as we looked up at Hagrid once more.

"Yeh see? Harry Potter, not a wizard and Cheyenne Power not a witch, absurd! Just wait until yeh get to Hogwarts, you'll both be famous."

Uncle Vernon gained a bit more courage, unwilling to give in without a fight.

"Didn't I just say they are not going?!" He hissed through clenched teeth. I winced and leaned into Hary fearfully, anticipating another physical attack. Harry's arms tightened around me as he moved us away from him, putting himself between me and our uncle. "Those two will be attending Stonewall High and they'll both be grateful that they're even getting that! I've read those letters they've been sent and I know the kind of rubbish they need, spellbooks, wands, useless poppycock!"

"If these two want ter go ter Hogwarts, a Muggle like you isn't going ter stop 'em," Hagrid growled in reply, narrowing his eyes on Uncle Vernon. "Yeh can' stop Lily an' James Potter's son or Kristen an' Mark Power's daughter from goin' ter Hogwarts! Yeh'd be mad just ter try it! Both their names've been down ever since they were both born. They'll both be attending the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the wizard, with youngesters of their own sort, being taught under the greatest headmaster that Hogwarts has ever had: Albus Dumbled -"

"I WILL NOT PAY SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL ONE _CENT_ JUST TO TEACH THESE TWO MAGIC TRICKS!" Uncle Vernon shouted, stomping forward a few feet, but he had already sealed his fate and lost this discussion. Hagrid leapt up once more, throwing the couch clean across the room until it crashed against the back wall, his form looming menacingly over all of us as he drew his umbrella once more, whirling on Uncle Vernon with it, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"DON'T -" he thundered, nearly shaking the whole shack around us with just his words. "EVER - INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"

He whirled his umbrella over his head and then brought it swishing down through the air to point behind Uncle Vernon at Dudley; a flash of violet light blinded us all for a moment, our ears filled with the sound of a firecracker going off, which was shortly followed by a sharp squeal. When the light faded, we found Dudley dancing before us, his hands clasped firmly over his fat bottom, howling out in pain, like a wounded animal. When he turned around, Harry and I were astonished to see the curly pig's tail poking out through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared out in panic while his wife squealed and started to sob. Grabbing Aunt Petunia and Dudley, he pushed them into the next room, casting one last horrified look back at Hagrid before he slammed the door behind him.

Hagrid sighed as he went to retrieve the couch, sitting down on it once more as he looked his umbrella over, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Hm, I shouldn'ta lost me temper like that, I 'pose," he said slowly, "but, even so, the spell didn't work. I meant ter turn him into a pig, but it looks like his parents already did that fer me. There wasn't much left I could do...."

He looked at Harry and I then, casting us both a silent look under bushy eyebrows.

"I'd be grateful if neither o' yeh mentioned this ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said, smiling sheepishly at us. "I'm not, exactly....supposed ter use magic....I was allowed ter use a little bit ter get here and bring yeh yer letters, but that was about it. It was one reason I wanted ter take on the job."

"Hagrid...why...why aren't you allowed ter use magic?" I asked timidly, cocking my head slightly to the side in question. He was a wizard, so...why wouldn't he be allowed to use the magical abilities he was born with? Had he gotten in trouble with someone and was forbidden to use them now because of it?

"Well...ter tell yeh the truth, I was once a student at Hogwarts meself, but, in me third year, I got expelled.....I got me wand snapped in half. Dumbledore kept me on as gamekeeper, though. He's a great man, Dumbledore, great man,"

"What'd you get expelled for?' Harry asked, cocking his own head.

"Well...it's gettin' late and we've got lots ter buy tomorrow," Hagrid said evasively, turning his head to avoid our gazes, "We've gotta get up and go into town ter get all yer books an' supplies."

He shrugged out of his thick black coat, handing it to Harry and I.

"Here, yeh two can use that fer a blanket. Ignore it if it moves, I think I've still got a couple o' dormice somewhere in there. They won't bite, though, they're harmless. Sleep well."


	5. Diagon Alley

The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks outside and the screech of seagulls overhead lured me slowly back to consciousness and I inhaled sharply, stretching my arms over my head, my back arching off the floor. I groaned softly, trying to ignore the ache the hard wood floor had caused in the middle of my back as I pulled myself into a sitting position, rubbing my shoulder lightly, blinking my eyes in the bright sunlight filtering through the spotted window, a thick beam of light slanting across the wood floor, pooling in a large square shape in the middle of the room, behind the couch where Hagrid had fallen asleep.

 

"It was only a dream," Harry's firm voice drew my attention to the shape hidden under the other half of Hagrid's coat and I turned to look at him, only seeing the top of his messy black hair peeking out from under the collar. "Chey and I only dreamed that a giant named Hagrid came to tell us we were a witch and wizard and we would be attending a school for young wizards. When I open my eyes, I will be in my cupboard at home."

 

Something rapped smartly on the window and I looked over my shoulder to find the source. A handsome brown and white barn owl sat on the sill outside, knocking on the window with it's claw, it's beak clamped around a newspaper, staring in at us with big yellow eyes. I gently pushed the coat off and got to my feet, crossing the room to the window, a sudden relief swelling inside me at the sight of, not only the owl, but Hagrid as well, telling me what had happened the night before hadn't just been something my subconscious had conjured up in a desperate attempt to escape the cruel reality of our living arrangements. The owl continued to tap impatiently at the glass as I fought with the lock on the window so I could let him inside.

 

 

 

"All right...I'm up," Harry grumbled behind me from under the coat, sighing to himself, probably still convinced everything had just been a happy dream and nothing more. "I'm up....Chey's probably already awake and waiting for me in the kitchen...." he sighed and there was a rustle of clothes, as though he was sitting up, the coat slipping off him. I managed to get the lock open and jerked the window up. The owl's feathers brush my side as it swoops past, carrying the newspaper over to Hagrid, where it was dropped on top of the sleeping giant. Making an arch in midair, the owl fluttered down to the floor, landing beside Harry on the floor, where it began to attack Hagrid's coat.

 

"Hey! Don't do that!" Harry said desperately, waving at the owl to get it away from the coat, but the creature only snapped its beak at him before it continued it's attack on the coat we'd been using as a blanket. I hurried over to Hagrid and tried to shove his broad shoulder.

 

"H-Hagrid! Hagrid, wake up, there's an owl, it's -"

 

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted without turning around, curling up tighter into a ball, pressing himself into the back of the couch. "He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Just look in the coat pockets."

 

When I turned to help Harry search the coat for the money Hagrid was talking about, we soon found that that was the only thing it seemed to be made up of, pockets! We uncovered bundles of keys, slug pellets, tangled up balls of many different colored strings, peppermint humbugs, teabags....finally, after what felt like forever, we uncovered a handful of strange-looking coins.

 

"Give him five Knuts." Hagrid told us sleepily. I frowned at the coins, unsure, as Harry asked which ones were Knuts and Hagrid told us they were the little bronze coins. We counted out five of those while the owl held out his leg toward us, indicating the small leather pouch bound to it. Once he was paid, the owl took flight again, disappearing out the window into the endless blue sky overhead.

 

Hagrid sat up on the couch, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

 

"We'd best get goin', Harry, Cheyenne, we got lots ter do today. We'll be headin' up ter London ter buy all yer school stuff."

 

Harry and I were examining the wizard coins quietly, holding them up to the light and turning them over again and again to check both sides. At Hagrid's words, something in the back of my mind whispered to me, drawing my attention to the fact of the money itself. My stomach knotted tightly and I suddenly felt a bit of my happiness slipping away at the memory of what Uncle Vernon had said last night. Our school supplies....how were we going to get them if we didn't have any money? Our uncle had flat out said he refused to pay for anything and it wasn't as though either Harry or I had any money of our own. We had never gotten an allowance and the only way I'd been able to get any kind of money was when I went scrounging for it between the furniture cushions and underneath them as well, and that was for when I scraped together change to try and buy Harry at least a cupcake for his birthday....this happy part of our lives was not staring out well....Harry pointed out our problem to Hagrid as he was pulling on his boots and picking his coat up from the floor.

 

"Don't worry about money, that ol' Muggle's money won't be any use ta either o' yeh in our world." he said as he got to his feet and shrugged back into his coat, scratching the top of his head. "Neither o' yeh thought yer parents left yeh with anythin'?"

 

"B-but...I thought you said their house was destroyed...." I pointed out, but he shook his head.

 

"Their gold wasn' kept in their house, girl! Nah, they kept it safe in the wizard's bank, Gringotts. We'll have to stop there first to get your money before we go shopping. Here, why don't the two of you have a sausage, they're not that bad when they're cold, and if yeh offered any o' that birthday cake, I wouldn' say no teh some.

 

"Wait, there's a bank for wizards?!" I asked in astonishment.

 

"Only one. Gringotts. It's run by goblins."

 

I choked on my piece of sausage and coughed, thumping my chest as I looked up at the giant with wide, disbelieving eyes.

 

_"Goblins!?!"_

 

"Yup and yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh both that much. Don't ever mess with goblins, Harry, Cheyenne. Gringoots is one of the safest places in the world if yeh ever need ter keep anything safe; the only other place aside from Hogwarts. I have ter stop at Gringotts, myself, matter o' fact. Professor Dumbledore asked me ter pick somethin' up fer him, it's Hogwarts business." Hagrid puffed out his chest proudly. I blinked from where I was standing with Harry and reached forward to poke his belly, making him exhale loudly. I giggled in amusement as he looked down at me with an amused smile. "Dumbledore usually asks me ter do important stuff fer him like this. Fetchin' the two o' you, gettin' things from Gringotts - he trust me, see."

 

"All right, both o' yeh got everyhin'? Let's get goin'."

 

Harry took my hand as we followed Hagrid out of the shack into the brilliant sunlight outside. I squinted in the bright light and lifted my free hand to shield my eyes against the sun until they could adjust, turning my eyes away from the clear blue sky to look out over the sprawling, rocky environment around us, blinking rapidly in the light shining off the blue green waves surrounding us on all sides. The boat Uncle Vernon had rented was still tethered to the side of the rock, bobbing softly in the now crawling waves, water lapping at the floor from the storm.

 

"Um, Hagrid...how exactly did you get here? I don't see another boat." I said as Harry and I scanned our surroundings to find another way for Hagrid to have crossed the chaotic waves to reach us the night before. "I flew here." Hagrid told us, making us stop and look around at him again.

 

"You _flew?!"_

 

"Yup, but we'll have ta go back in this. I'm not s'pposed ter do magic when I got the two of yeh."

 

 

Harry helped me step into the boat and followed immediately after. Hagrid climbed in after us as we watched us, trying to imagine the giant actually flying here to reach us.

 

 

"Hm, don' see much a point in rowing...." Hagrid said, looking at Harry and I out of the corner of his eye. "If I were ter....hm...speed things up a bit, neither o' yeh would mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts, would yeh?"

 

"Of course we wouldn't, we promise," I said with a reassuring smile, secretly wanting to see Hagrid perform some more magic. He pulled his pink umbrella out of his jacket again, tapping it twice against the side of the boat, making it speed off toward land.

 

"Hey Hagrid, why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked him, cocking his head quizzically.

 

"It's guarded with spells and enchantments," Hagrid explained as he unfolded his newspaper. "There are even rumors that they got dragons guardin' the more highsecurity vaults. And then o' course, there's the thousands o' tunnels and paths, hundreds o' miles under London. Even deeper than the Underground. Even if yeh did find summat, yeh'd die of hunger just tryin' ter get out."

 

I leaned back against the side of the boat, absorbing this before I looked at my best friend. Neither of us said anything as we took in the news, leaving Hagrid to read his paper in peace; after living with Uncle Vernon for so long, we had learned that people like to be left alone while they were reading something they considered important. It was difficult, though, not to shower the giant with questions as I stared at the front cover of the newspaper, which was titled the _Daily Prophet_. I couldn't remember ever having so many questions before in my life.

 

"Ministry o' Magic's messin' summat up again...." Hagrid muttered as he turned a page, quipping our interest even more.

 

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry and I asked together before either of us could stop ourselves.

 

"Course there is," Hagrid said, chuckling softly. "Dumbledore was wanted fer Minister, o' course, but he wouldn' ever leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge was placed in office. Not really the genius Dumbledore is, though...he pelts the poor man with owls every morning ter get advice...."

 

"What's the Ministry of Magic's main job?" I asked curiously, cocking my head, wondering what exactly a Ministry of Magic would be needed for.

 

"Well, their main job's ter keep magic a secret from Muggles. We can' have 'em knowing there're still witches an' wizards all up an' down the country. If they knew that, they would want magic soultions to all their problems. We'd rather be left alone..."

 

The boat bumped against something, jolting us to a stop and we looked up at the harbor wall. Harry handed me out of the boat as Hagrid folded up his newspaper and they followed me up the stone steps onto the main street.

 

Hagrid attracted a lot of attention as we made our way through the small town to the train station and neither Harry nor I could really find a reason why they wouldn't. Hagrid was twice the seize of an ordinary man and he did keep pointing at completely ordinary things, such as parking meters and commenting on how they were the strangest things Muggles could come up with.

 

"Um....Hagrid..." I panted as Harry and I jogged after Hagrid, doing our best to keep up with him. "y-you did say... _dragons,_ when you were telling us about the things guarding the vaults at Gringotts, didn't you?"

 

"Well, that's what people say could be guardin' 'em," Hagrid said. "Crikey, I'd like ter have a dragon."

 

"Y=you'd like to... _have_ one? A-as in....have it as a _pet?!"_ I squeaked with wide eyes. He nodded his head.

 

"Yeah, I've wanted one since I was a child - ah, here we go."

 

We walked into the station, where we immediately started searching for a train going into London. One was leaving in about five minutes. Harry and I handled the money since Hagrid said he couldn't seem to understand 'Muggle money', and bought the tickets.

 

Hagrid attracted a lot more attention on the train, which wasn't too surprising. He took up two seats on his own and spent the journey knitting a large canary-yellow cloth that looked similar to a circus tent.

 

"The two' you still got yer letters, don' cha, Harry, Cheyenne?" he asked as he counted his stitches. Harry and I nodded as we pulled the parchment envelopes out of our pockets.

 

"Good, now, jus' look inside those envelopes, there should be a list of everythin' both of yeh need."

 

Harry and I opened the envelope and pulled out the second piece of parchment from each....hm...I didn't remember seeing these last night....

 

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

 

**UNIFORM**

 

_First-year students will require:_

 

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

 

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

 

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

 

4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

 

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

 

**COURSE BOOKS:**

 

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

 

_**The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)** by Miranda Goshawk _

 

_**A History of Magic** by Bathilda Bagshot _

 

_**Magical Theory** by Adalbert Waffling _

 

_**A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration** by Emetic Switch _

 

_**One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi** by Phyllida Spore _

 

_**Magical Drafts and Potions** by Arsenius Jigger _

 

_**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them** by Newt Scamander _

 

_**The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection** by Quentin Trimble _

 

**OTHER EQUIPMENT:**

 

1 Wand

 

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

 

1 set glass or crystal phials

 

1 telescope set

 

brass scales

 

**Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad**

 

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS**

 

"H-Hagrid, could we really find all of this stuff in London?" I asked, looking up at the giant when I finished reading through the list. Hagrid chuckled and winked, smiling gently.

 

"If yeh know where to find it," he told us with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. My eyebrows rose slightly in question and I looked at Harry, who looked just as curious about what the giant meant as I did. Well....I suppose he would know where we would be able to find everything we would need, seeing as he had known about the magical world for, possibly, the whole of his life, while Harry and I had been kept in the dark....he was an adult wizard, after all. Besides, this was a brand new adventure for us, a whole new world to explore and get to know, where we wouldn't have to restricted and we could actually enjoy ourselves without being afraid of our cousin or uncle or aunt looming over us, making sure we toed the line like they had frightened us into doing practically all our lives.

 

London was a new adventure for us, too, a city we had never been allowed to see, only heard stories about. It was all very exciting. Hagrid seemed to know how to get around, although it didn't appear as though he was used to getting around the way Muggles did. Getting onto the Underground, he got stuck in the ticker barrier and he kept alternating between complaints about the seats being too small and the trains too slow for his liking.

 

"Honestly, how can Muggles manage ter survive without magic...." he grumbled as we climbed the broken-down escalator up to the bustling, shop lined street.

 

Hagrid was so big he was able to part the crowd easily, leaving Harry and I the sole job of keeping up directly behind him. We passed a variety of shops, from book shops all the way to cinemas, but everything here looked so ordinary....I could feel a twinge go through my heart at the thought of all of this being simply a prank the Dursleys had cooked up, even though a voice in the back of my head told me the Dursleys did not have any kind of sense of humor that could have led to something like that....but...at the moment, without a single sign of a magical shop in sight, it was starting to feel like maybe all of this was too good to be true. Was there really miles of tunnels leading to vaults holding piles of wizard gold thousands of feet below us? Could Harry and I really find palces where we could get spell books and a broomstick, or owl? And yet...something deep inside me was telling me to trust Hagrid, even if there was little more evidence of the magical world than his own abilities. He had been the one to take us from our parents house and take care of us as he brought us to the Dursleys, wasn't he? After what he told us last night, I could remember my dream and knew the person who had been carrying us had been the giant....he'd been so careful and gentle....he'd actually seemed to care. That helped us put a lot more faith in Hagrid than we ever would have in the Dursleys.

 

"Here we are," Hagrid said abruptly, coming to a halt. Harry and I just barely avoided colliding with his back and we stepped around him on either side, looking up at the tiny-grubby looking pub he was indicating. "the Leaky Cauldron, quite famous in our world."

 

It....didn't look all that famous....it seemed too run down and dark to be a famous place for witches and wizards to gather. No one seemed to pay it any kind of mind, either, as their eyes seemed to focus on the shops on either side of it, giving me a sneaking suspicsion that maybe none of them could really see it. Only Hagrid, Harry, and I seemed to know the shop was really there. Maybe there was spell put on it to make it seem as though the building wasn't really there, that it was invisible to nonmagical folks? I looked up at Hagrid to ask, but he put his hand on my back and steered me inside after Harry.

 

The inside of the place didn't look all that better....it was dark and dank, with a shabby, worn look about it, screaming out that it was long overdue for a tune up. In a corner were a couple of old women, talking over their glasses of sherry, one puffing on a long pipe. Behind the counter stood a bald-headed bartender, leaning over the bar itself with his elbows resting on the smooth wooden surface, talking cheerfully with a short man wearing a top hat. The low buzz of chatter immediately faded as Hagrid led us inside as everyone turned their attention on us, some giving warm smiles and waves to Hagrid, who they seemed to know. The bartender straightened himself out and turned to a high shelf behind him, reaching for a glass as he asked Hagrid if he wanted his usual drink. Hagrid shook his head with a small smile.

 

"Sorry, not today Tom, I've got some Hogwarts business ta take care of," he told him as he clapped his and on Harry's shoulder and I caught my best friend as his knees started to buckle, grabbing his arm in my hands and holding him up. He gave me a grateful smile.

 

 

The bartender turned back around to face us, peering at Harry and I over the bar, his eyes widening, "Good lord," he breathed. "it can't be....and yet it is....!"

 

 

Everyone in the Leaky Cauldron had stilled now and had their full attention focused on us, waiting quietly as Tom was shaking and beaming brightly.

 

"God bless my soul," he continued on in a soft whisper, as though he was praying. "Harry Potter....Cheyenne Power.... _the_ P-team. It's an honor."

 

He hurried out of sight and came out through a side door, hurrying toward Harry and I, seizing Harry's hand in his as soon as he reached us. He pumped Harry's hand up and down, tears brimming his eyes.

 

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, Miss Power, welcome back." he told us as he reached Harry's hand and took mine, kissing the back of it gently. Neither Harry nor I knew what to do or say to this as we looked at one another with raised eyebrows before glancing around at everyone else to see their reactions. I fidgeted nervously and looked away when I saw all of them staring, the hand Tom hadn't taken tightening around Harry's arm as I looked at my feet. The old woman who had been puffing on her pipe continued to do so without realizing it had gone out. I could feel the pride radiating off Hagrid and waves from behind us.

 

Chairs scraped the wooden floor as they were pushed back and there was a great rustling of clothing, the scuffle of shoes as we were surrounded by the Leaky Cauldron's costumers, shaking all of their hands, many of the men swooping to kiss the back of my hand like Tom had done, leaving my cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

 

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, Miss Power, it's an honor to meet the two of you at last."

 

"So very proud, Mr. Potter, Miss Power, so proud."

 

"I've always wanted to shake hands with our saviors, oh, look at me, I'm all a flutter."

 

"It's a delight to see the two of you again, Mr. Potter, Miss Power, I cannot begin to describe it. I'm Dedalus Diggle." the short man with the top hat who had been talking with Tom said as he bowed to Harry and I excitedly, his hat falling off and onto the floor in the process. Something clicked in my brain at that moment, as it seemed to in Harry's.

 

"Hey, we know you! Yeah, we've seen you before in a shop in our hometown! You bowed to Chey and I!" Harry said.

 

"They remember me!' Dedalus cried excitedly, looking around at the gathered crowd. "Did everyone hear? They remember me!"

 

No one was going to let Dadalus upstage them and keep either Harry nor I to himself, however, as everyone pressed in harder, continuing to shake our hands - Doris Crockford came back every five seconds to wring our hands in turn. A pale young man stepped through the crowd, trembling nervously, his right eye twitching.

 

"Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid said in astonishment, smiling brightly. "Harry, Cheyenne, this is Professor Quirrell, one of the teachers at Hogwarts."

 

"P-P-Potter....P-P-Power," Professor Quirrell stammered horribly, looking at Harry and I in turn with his eye still twitching as he grasped Harry's hand, "I-I'm s-so te-terribly pleased t-to meet th-the two of you."

 

"What class do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" I asked curiously, smiling brightly and cocking my head curiously, wanting to know exactly the kind of magic we would be learning at Hogwarts.

 

"D-Defense Agaisnt the D-D-Dark Arts," Professor Quirrell said uncomfortably, looking away from us, looking rather scared at the very thought. "N-not that ei-either of y-your really n-need it, e-eh, Po-Potter, P-P-Power?" He said with a nervous smile. "Y-you're both o-off to get your equipment, th-then, eh? I-I have to g-go pick up a n-new book on vampires, m-myself.' Horror flashed across his features at the very thought.

 

None of the others were willing to let Professor Quirrell keep either of us to himself anymore than they had been when it came to Dedalus Diggle. It took another ten minutes for us to get away from them all. Hagrid finally managed to make himself heard over the babble.

 

"Well, we must be pushing off - we got lets ter buy. C'mon Harry, Cheyenne."

 

Doris Crockford managed a final squeeze on both my and Harry's hands before we were ushered out through the back door and into a small, walled courtyard, which was bare except for a few weeds in the far right corner, a trash can in the corner opposite.

 

Hagrid was grinning proudly at Harry and I now.

 

"Didn' I tell the two o' yeh? I told yeh you both were famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' from head ter foot ter meet yeh....although, he's usually tremblin' like that..."

 

"Is Professor Quirrell always that nervous?" I asked curiously, frowning worriedly up at Hagrid, wondering what could have happened to the man to make him so nervous.

 

"Yeah....the poor block got quite the bad fortune when he took a year off from studyin' ter get himself some firsthand experience. He was fine when he was just studyin' his practice outta books, but that trip....it really shook 'im up it did. Some say he met vampires in the Black Forest and then ran into a bit o' trouble with a hag. Everythin' scares 'im nowadays, his students, his own subject...now, where did I put my umbrella?"

 

My head swam with the new information and I felt excitement well inside me at the thought of actually meeting creatures like that. Vampires, werewolves, hags, witches, creatures I had only read about in books....they were real! I'd always loved learning about supernatural creatures and now I understood why, I could finally understand where my fascination with them originated from. My parents had been a part of a world where they existed, I was a part of that world now, too. This was so exciting!

 

I beamed up at Hagrid as he counted the bricks on the wall above the trash can.

 

"Three up and two across...." he murmured to himself, nodding his head and putting his arm out to push Harry and I back out of the way. "All right, stand back Harry, Cheyenne."

 

He tapped three different bricks with the point of his umbrella before he took a step back himself.

 

The bricks he'd touched quivered as he did, wriggling backward until a small hole appeared where it had been and slowly the hole grew bigger until we were standing before a large archway, tall and wide enough to even fit Hagrid with little difficulty. A cobbled street lay beyond it, lined with shops as it twisted and turned out of sight.

 

Hagrid grinned down at Harry and I, "Welcome to Diagon Alley." he said in a proud voice. Harry looked up at him in astonishment while I continued to beam, bouncing excitedly on the soles of my feet as we followed him through the archway. I glanced behind me in time to see the archway shrinking back into a brick wall.

 

Sunlight glinted off the seemingly polished surface of a stack of cauldrons standing outside the shop closest to us, cauldrons consisting of different sizes and types, according to the sign hanging just above them. The types included Copper, Silver, and Self-Stirring, along with Collapsible!

 

"Yeah, you'll both need on o' those," Hagrid said as we walked past them and headed up the winding cobblestones. "but we gotta get you yer money first."

 

I kept turning my head excitedly from one side to the next, trying to see all the shops at once, suddenly wishing I had eyes in the back of my head so that I could. Each shop was different, selling different merchandise, packed with customers doing their shopping. Displays decorated the windows and were even set up just outside the shop doors. We passed a Apothecary shop where a plump woman was shaking her head at a barrel with a sign beside it, reading what it said aloud to herself, "Mad they've become, asking seventeen Sickles an ounce for Dragon liver, I ask you...."

 

Soft hoots came from a shadowed shop with a sign dubbing it _Eeylops Owl Emporium,_ low hisses and croaks accompanying them. Under the shops name was a list of owls, from Tawny to Snowy. Next door was a shop selling....broomsticks? Several boys were standing before the front window display, pressing their noses against the glass as they peered inside. One of them said the broom inside was a brand new one called the Nimbus Two Thousand, which was, currently, the fastest broom on the market. Further along, we passed shops that sold robes, telescopes and other strange silver instruments neither of us had ever seen before. Barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes were stacked in the window of another shop, alongside another with a display that consisted of a tottering pile of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, along with potion bottles and globes of the moon....

 

" 'ere we are, Gringotts," Hagrid said, coming to a stop and making both Harry and I look around quizzically. We craned our necks to get a proper look at the towering, snowy white building before us, a building that stood well above the others. A guard stood beside the burnished bronze doors, his uniform consisting of scarlet and gold robes. I grabbed Hagrid's arm.

 

"Hagrid, is that -?"

 

"A goblin, yeah," Hagrid whispered softly as we climbed the white stone steps toward him. A head shorter than Harry, the creature had a sharp, clever face, his beard groomed into a point. His fingers and feet were long and slender, his fingers looking to be tipped with sharp looking nails. He bowed us inside. We stepped in, looking up at the words engraved into the second pair of doors, this set made of silver instead of bronze.

 

_Enter, stranger, but take heed,_

 

_For those who seek to take what they have not earned,_

 

_Will be met swiftly for the sin of greed._

 

_Seeking a treasure beyond these doors,_

 

_That was truly never yours,_

 

_Will find themselves a great deal more._

 

_You have been warned._

 

"Like I said before, yeh'd be mad ter try and rob this place," Hagrid warned in a dark voice.

 

A pair of goblins was waiting to open the door for us and they bowed us through the silver doors into a vast marble hall. Almost a hundred more goblins sat behind a long, tall counter, writing in large ledgers while they weighed coins in brass scales and examined precious stones through eyeglasses. Multiple doors led off the hall, through which more goblins were showing people through. Harry and I followed Hagrid toward the nearest goblin, pausing beside him to peer up at him.

 

"Good morning," Hagrid greeted with a smile. "We're here ter take some money outta Mr. Potter and Miss Power's shared safe."

 

"Do you have their key, Sir?"

 

Hagrid held up one finger as he started digging through his pockets to find it, pulling out yet more from within, putting his items down on the counter for safe keeping, which included a handful of moldy dog biscuits, which spilled over onto the goblin's book of numbers. He wrinkled his nose at them and moved them off his book with his pencil while my attention was caught by his neighbor, who was weighing a stack of gold on a scale.

 

"Ah, here it is," Hagrid said triumphantly, holding up the tiny golden key, which looked like it could be lost on his person should he so much as close his hand. He handed it over to the goblin, who looked it over before looking up at us again, nodding.

 

"Everything seems to be in order here."

 

"I've also go a letter from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said, reaching into his coat once more. "It's concerning the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

 

The goblin took the letter and read it over carefully before looking up at Hagrid once more and handing it back.

 

"Very well, I will arrange an escort down to the vaults. Griphook!"

 

Another goblin approached the counter, pausing beside Harry and I, his hands folded behind him as he waited. Harry and I turned to follow him as Hagrid crammed the dog biscuits back into his coat and lumbered after us toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

 

"Um, Hagrid, what is in vault seven hundred and thirteen? Is it something important?" I asked as we made our way around the counter after Griphook.

 

"I can't tell either o' yeh that," Hagrid told us in a mysterious tone. "It's very secret Hogwarts busines, strictly onna need ta know basis. Dumbledore's trusted me ter take care of it. It's work more'n my job, I'll tell yeh both that much."

 

Griphook held the door open for us and the three of us stepped through into a narrow stone passage, flaming torches set up at strategic points all along the walls. The passage sloped steeply downward, railway tracks following it along on the floor. Griphook gave a low whistle and a few minutes later a small cart skid to a stop in front of us. We all climbed in, Harry helping me inside before he followed me in, Hagrid getting in behind us with a bit of difficulty. Once all the passengers were settled in, the cart set off.

 

We started off hurtling through a maze of twisting passages and I fely myself getting dizzy with how many turns we seemed to take in just a few minutes, leaving me feeling lost and disoriented as the rattling cart steered itself through the passages, Griphook sitting quietly at the front of the cart with his hands folded in his lap.

 

My eyes watered as the cold air rushing past us swept my bangs back, exposing them, but I tried to keep my eyes open so I could see where we were going. There was a burst of light, like fire at one end of a passage and I whirled around to get a better look, hoping that perhaps it was a dragon. However, I wasn't able to get a close enough look as we plunged deeper, passing over an underground lake surrounded by large stalactites and stalagmites that grew from the ceiling and floor. Harry asked the difference between stalagmites and stalactites, which Hagrid made a smart remark to before asking Harry and I not to ask him questions since he was feeling sick. I glanced up at him, seeing he did have a green tinge to his cheeks.

 

"Hagrid?" I asked worriedly as he scrambled out of the cart at our first stop, which was at a small door built into the passage wall. He leaned back against the wall, leaning over to brace his hands on his knees, which were trembling.

 

Griphook, meanwhile, had taken our key from his pocket and unlocked the door, unleashing a cloud of green smoke from within. I coughed and waved it away, wondering what could lay beyond. Light from the torches around us glinted off something within and I willed more smoke to clear, waving more away with my hand, only to freeze when I finally saw what was inside. A mountain of coins lined the vault: golden mounds, silver columns, and little bronze heaps.

 

"All yours." Hagrid said with a smile.

 

It was all ours? My and Harry's? Wow....just wow. The Dursleys couldn't have any kind of clue about this or neither of us would have a Knut to our name. They were always complaining about how much both of us cost them. And yet, this entire time, we had a shared fortune all to ourselves, buried deep under London.

 

Hagrid helped us each pile some of the money into a bag.

 

"All right, now, the golde coins are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles equal one Galleon and twenty nine Knuts equal a Sickle. Easy ta remember. Right, yeh two should be good fer a couple o' terms, the rest we'll keep safe here for yeh." He handed Harry the key before turning to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thireen now, please. And, ah, could yeh go a little slower?"

 

"The cart only goes one speed," Griphook told us.

 

We went deeper underground and the cart seemed to be gathering speed. I shivered as the temperature seemed to drop and we swayed side to side as we kept turning tight corners. The rattling cart passed over a ravine and I started to panic as Harry leaned over the side to get a better look, but Hagrid gave a small groan and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back into the cart.

 

It wasn't long before we reached the second vault, which turned out not to have a keyhole. Griphook swept out an arm to tell us to stand back.

 

One long, slender finger was run gently over the door's surface and the material seemed to ripple and melt away at the touch.

 

"No one but a Gringotts goblin can do that. Anyone that tries will get sucked into the vault and trapped inside." Griphook told us.

 

"Do you check your vaults very often?" I asked, blinking slightly in surprise.

 

"About once every ten years," Griphook told us with a nasty smile.

 

There had be something truly amazing in this vault if it was in such a high security vault. I looked at Harry, seeing the excited twinkle in his eye at seeing what it could be and he leaned forward to check, smiling eagerly. I sighed and followed his lead, expecting more gold, rare jewels, only to be faced with what appeared to be an empty vault. I glanced around, finally spotting the grubby little package wrapped in brown paper laying directly in the middle and my head cocked as I frowned deeply. What in the....world? Hagrid picked the package up without a word and tucked it into an inner pocket on his coat. Harry and I looked at one another, both of us bursting to ask what was inside, but we both decided it would be best if we just left it alone for now. It wasn't any of our business anyway, so we shouldn't push it.

 

"C'mon, let's get back in thsi infernal cart, and please don't talk to me on the way out, I don't want ta throw up all over the two of yeh."

 

We stepped back into the bright, sunlit day fifteen minutes later and I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sun, squinting around at the shops around us, feeling anxious to get started shopping. Both Harry and I combined had more money now than we or even our cousin had had in our entire lives.

 

"We should start with getting your uniform," Hagrid said as he pointed to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "But listen, Harry, Cheyenne, neither o' yeh would mind if I just slipped off fer a quick pick-me-up at the Leaky Cauldron? I'm not really that fond of those Gringotts carts." We looked up at him, seeing he still did look a bit green in the face. We smiled encouragingly and nodded before Harry and I went into Madam Malkin's shop by ourselves.

 

A squat witch greeted us from the counter, smiling cheerfully as she climbed out of her chair and approached us, adjusting her mauve clothes. If I had to take a guess, I would guess this was probably Madam Malkin.

 

"Both Hogwarts, dears?" she asked, cocking her head before either of us could speak. "I've got the lot here for students - there's another young man being measured for a fitting now."

 

We followed her into the back of the shop, where a pale boy around our age stood on a footstool while a second witch was fitting him in long black robes. His face was angular, pointed in places and his hair was a bright blond color, slicked back as though with hair gel. He turned his stormy gray eyes on us as Harry was stood on his own stool beside him, ducking his head so Madam Malkin could slip a second long robe over his head, which she promptly began pinning to his size.

 

"Hello," the boy said, cocking his head slightly. "Are you both Hogwarts students, too?"

 

"Yes," Harry and I replied together.

 

"That's nice. My father's already buying my books next door for me while mother's looking at wands," he said in a bored, drawling voice, as though shopping was the last thing he wanted to be doing at this moment. "Afterward I'll take them to look at racing brooms. I really don't get the rule about first years not getting to have brooms...it seems unfair since the other years can have their own. Maybe I'll bully father into buying me one and sneak it into school somehow.

 

I looked up at Harry as his eyes darted in my direction, then away as I sighed, both of us seeing a remarkable resemblance between Dudley and this boy.

 

"Have either of you got a broom of your own?" he asked.

 

"No..." we replied together.

 

"Neither of you play Quidditch?"

 

"Er..." I mumbled, frowning slightly, having no clue what Quidditch could be.

 

"I play it all the time. Father said it would be a crime if I didn't get picked for my house team and I have to say I agree. Do either of you know which house you'll be in?"

 

"No, neither of us do," Harry replied and I fidgeted slightly, feeling stupid at my lack of knowledge of the world in which I'd been born. But....we hadn't really known this world as we should, so it should be expected that we knew so little about it....

 

"Well, that's all right, no one really knows for sure which house they'll end up in anyway, but I know for a fact I'll be in Slytherin since all my family has been - could either of you imagine being put in Hufflepuff?! If I was put in that house, I would turn and leave, I mean, wouldn't you?"

 

"Hmm," Harry and I mumbled together, neither of us looking at the other young man.

 

"Hey, look at him!" the boy said suddenly, inclining his head toward the front window, where Hagrid was beaming in at us, indicating the three large ice creams he was holding, showing he couldn't come inside.

 

"That's the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid." Harry and I said together, both of us glad we at least knew one thing about the magical world the other boy did not.

 

"You're finished, dear," Madam Malkin said, drawing our attention. She helped Harry slip the robe off and he got down, helping to hand me up onto the stool next. Madam Malkin pulled the robe over my head and started to pin it to my size now.

 

"Are the two of you dating or something?" the boy asked, having watched Harry take my hand and help me up onto the stool. My face immediately warmed and I looked down at the squat shop owner as Harry blinked and flushed red.

 

"N-no, Chey and I are just friends!" he stammered shyly. "B-but, enough of that. Hagrid does work at Hogwarts. And he seems like a great gameskeeper."

 

"Well, I've heard he acts kind of like a savage. He apparently lives in a hut on the school grounds and he'll set fire to his bed whenever he gets drunk and tries to use magic."

 

"Well, we think Hagrid's quite brilliant," Harry told the boy coldly.

 

"Do you two?" I could hear the sneer clear in his voice. "But why are you two with him? Don't either of you have parents?"

 

I clenched my eyes tightly, inwardly wincing as our parents were brought up. Harry told the boy our parents were dead as I tried to block it all out. Just because we hardly knew our parents, it didn't make the thought of losing them any easier. And we really did not need someone else making us feel any worse about it than we already were. Besides, it wasn't anyone's business but our own.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he replied, even though his tone was still sounding bored and not at all sorry about our loss. "But both your parents were one of us, weren't they?"

 

"They were witches and wizards, if that's what you're implying."

 

"I really don't think they should let any of the other sort into the school, do either of you? None of them are the same as us, they weren't raised the same way, to know how our world works. I bet some of them haven't heard of our world or Hogwarts until they get their acceptance letter. I think we should just keep magic in the old wizarding families. What're your surnames?"

 

Before either Harry or I could answer, Madam Malkin told me I was finished and Harry reached over to help me down as she slipped the robe over my head. I inwardly sighed in relief, knowing we wouldn't have to talk with the boy anymore.

 

"Well, I'll see you both at school, then," the drawling boy said, earning only a couple of quiet nods in reply.

 

Neither Harry nor I spoke as we ate the chocolate and raspberry ice cream Hagrid had bought us.

 

"Is somethin' wrong?" Hagrid asked as we made our way up the alley.

 

"It's nothing, Hagrid," I said quickly, not wanting him to worry. I gave a small smile, telling himt he ice cream was good and thanking him for getting it for us. We finished the ice cream quickly and went into one of the shops to get ourselves parchment and several quills each. It helped cheer us up when we found a color changing ink that alternated between the colors as we wrote with it. It wasn't until we left the shop that and I decided to ask Hagrid about Quidditch.

 

"Blimey, I keep forgetting just how little yeh both know about our world. But not knowing about Quidditch...."

 

"Do you really have to say it that way...? We both feel stupid enough...." I murmured, looking away sadly as Harry told Hagrid about the boy we'd talked to in Madam Malkin's.

 

" -and he told us people from Muggle families shouldn't be allowed to attend Hogwarts."

 

"But neither o' yeh come from a Muggle family. If he knew who either of yeh were, he'd have been singin' a different tune. He grew up hearin' both yer names from his parents and the rest of the wizardin' community. Both of you saw how everyone in the Leaky Cauldron reactd when they saw yeh. But what does he know about it, some o' the best witches and wizards came from a family o' Muggles. Look at both yer mums! And look at their sister."

 

"So...what is Quidditch?"

 

"It's our sport, the wizard's sport. It's....kind of like that game in the Muggle world, what's it called....? Soccer! Everyone watches Quidditch, follows it. The players ride on brooms up in the air and there're four balls they use - the rules are kinda complicated."

 

"What about Hufflepuff and Slytherin?"

 

"They're two of the school houses. There are four in all. Everyone says Hufflepuff's are a group of duffers, but -"

 

"We'll probably be in Hufflepuff." Harry and I said together with deep sighs.

 

"It's better for yeh both ter be in Hufflepuff than Slytherin," Hagrid told us in a darkened tone. "There isn't a single witch or wizard who was in that house that didn't go bad. You-Know-Who was a Slytherin."

 

"Y-you mean, Vol -, I-I mean...You-Know-Who attended Hogwarts?"

 

"Many years ago, he did." Hagrid told us, nodding.

 

We continued our shopping like usual, going into a shop called Flourish and Blotts to get all our school books. Shelves were stocked to the ceilings with books of differing sizes, from ones as large as paving stones to ones as small as postage stamps with silk covers. There were books with very peculiar symbols and even some that were blank. If Dudley had seen this shop, even if he was not a book person, he would have been doing everything he could to get his grubby little hands on even book he could possibly reach. There was one particular book Hagrid and I had to drag Harry away from that included a great deal of curses and countercurses I knew he would be more than happy to use on Dudley if he got the chance. Harry told us that's what he'd actually been planning to do.

 

"I'm not disagreeing with you on this, Harry, but neither o' yeh are supposed ter use magic in the Muggle world except for emergencies," Hagrid told us with a small smile. "But even if yeh could, neither o' yeh would be able ter do any of those curses yet, yeh'd have ter study for a couple o' years ter reach that level."

 

When we went to get our cauldrons, Hagrid made sure we got pewter instead of gold like Harry and I wanted to get, but he made up for it by helping us get a couple of sets of new scales so we could weigh out our potion ingredients, along with a collapsible brass telescope each. The Apothecary was our next stop, a fascinating shop despite it's horrible smell, which smell like a mix of rotten eggs and cabbage. Harry and I checked out the barrels of ingredients standing around the counter, taking in the slimy stuff inside, only looking up to check out the jars sitting on the shelves lining the walls, seeing herbs, dried roots, and bright powders. Bundles of different things hung from the ceiling, which included feathers and fangs. While Hagrid was getting a couple of supplies of basic potion ingredients for us, Harry and I were checking out the silver unicorn horns, which were being sold at twenty one Galleons each while a barrel of minuscule, glittering-black beetle eyes was being sold at five Knuts a scoops. Once we were done, we stepped back out into the sunlight and pulled our lists out once more.

 

"It looks like the two of yeh just need yer wands now - ah, I still have ta get Harry a birthday present, too."

 

Harry flushed as Hagrid handed me back my list and I giggled, smiling softly at my best friend.

 

"Hagrid, you really don't have to -"

 

"I know, I know, but I want to. How about I give yeh both a present? I'll get yer animals. Not any toads, no, yeh'd both be laughed at. An' I won't get either of yeh a cat, I'm allergic ta them. Tell yeh what, how about I get yer owls? All kids want owls, they're dead useful, deliverin' mail and everythin'." he said as he led us _Eeylops Owl Emporium._

 

We left the shadowed shop twenty minutes later, stepping back out into the sunlight, Harry and I each carrying a cage with our owl owl. His held a beautiful snowy owl, while I had a handsome, raven black owl, both asleep with their heads tucked under their wings. Both of us were extremely grateful and we kept murmuring our thanks to Hagrid, who was beginning to blush lightly under all his hair at the thanks.

 

"Don' mention it," Hagrid told us in a gruff voice. "I s'spect neither o' yeh got a lotta presents from them Dursleys. We only have ta go ta Ollivanders now, the only shop that sells wands, and the best around. He'll give yeh both a quality wand."

 

Harry and I looked at one another excitedly, knowing this was the one thing we'd truly been looking forward to since we'd taken our first steps into Diagon Alley.

 

We reached the last shop, which was narrow and shabby, with a sign over the door that said in peeling gold letters: **_Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ ** The window display comprised of a single wand resting on a faded purple cushion.

 

A faint tinkling bell greeted us from the depths of the shop as we entered the tiny building. A single, spindly chair sat in the corner, a chair which Hagrid lowered himself into so he could wait. Silence enveloped us in a very thick blanket, a blanket infused with the tingle of magic, excitment and adventure. Thousands of narrow boxes stood in neat piles around us, stacked high to the ceiling. A tingle worked it's way up my spine as we looked at these boxes, blinking quietly as we did.

 

"Good afternoon," a soft voice said from behind us, making Harry and I nearly jump clear out of our skin. A loud crunching noise split the quiet air, indicating Hagrid had been startled as well. A quick shuffling followed and I glanced over my shoulder to see Hagrid hurrying to his feet, leaving the spindly chair to stand rather awkwardly in his wake.

 

When I turned my head again, I could see an old man standing in front of us, gazing up at Harry and I with a pair of wide, moon pale eyes that cute through the gloom of the shop as easily as the moon's pale blue rays cut through the darkness of night.

 

"Er...h-hello." Harry greeted him with a small smile as I gave a small wave.

 

"Ah, if it isn't the powerful duo." he said with a smile. "I thought I would be seeing the two of you soon. Harry Potter, Cheyenne Power." He wasn't asking us if those were our names. "Harry, you have eyes like your mother and Cheyenne, you're as beautiful as yours. I remember when the two of them came into my shop, as though it was only yesterday, buying their first wands. Lily's was ten and a quarter inches, swishy, made from bark of a willow tree. It worked well for charm work. Kristen's was nine inches, bendy, made from oak, excellent for Transfiguration."

 

Mr. Ollivander moved closer, bending over Harry and I with his unblinking eyes. We stared back into his silvery irises and I felt an uneasy tingle move through my body.

 

"Both of your fathers, however, preferred wands with a bit more power to them. James's wand was an eleven inch mahonany, very pliable wand, good for Transfiguration just liek Kristen's. Mark's was just as long, eleven inches, made of pine, sturdy. Great wand for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Your fathers did quite favor them, but the wand chooses the wizard, of course."

 

Mr. Ollivander was now nose to nose with Harry, staring at him still with his wide pale eyes. I could see Harry's reflection in his irises.

 

"And those...."

 

Mr. Ollivander lifted one hand, pressing his long, white index finger to Harry's lightning shaped scar, his pale eyes turning to stare at the identical scar on my forehead.

 

"I regrettably sold the wand that caused these scars," he murmured. "A powerful, thirteen-and-a-half yew wand....if I had known what that wand was going into the world to do...."

 

He shook the memories away with a sigh and when he turned his head, he spotted Hagrid, much to our relief.

 

"Well if it isn't Rubeus Hagrid! It's wonderful to see you again...you had a rather bendy, sixteen inch oak, didn't you?

 

"Yes sir," Hagrid said with a small smile.

 

"That was quite a good wand, but....then they had to snap it when you got expelled...." Mr. Ollivander said with a sigh, looking stern.

 

"Er....yes, it did...." Hagrid said, averting his eyes now and looking down at his feet as he shuffled them. "I've kept the pieces, though...." he said, perking slightly.

 

"You know you are not to use them, though, right?" Mr. Ollivander said in a sharp tone, narrowing his eyes slightly.

 

"Uh, y-yes, sir," Hagrid said quickly, wiping his head back and forth. I frowned slightly at him, watching his grip tighten around his pink umbrella.

 

"Hmm," Mr. Ollivander eyed Hagrid, seeming to stare straight through him. "Well, how about we move on to getting your wands, Mr. Potter, Miss Power?" He hummed slightly as he turned away from the giant, pulling a long, silver marked tape measure from his pocket. "Now, which are your wand arms?"

 

"Well....we're both right-handed," Harry told him.

 

"All right, then. Miss Power, hold your arm out for me, please. Yes, just like that." he began to measure my arm, going from my shoulder down to my fingers, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and even around my head. When he finished, he began measuring Harry. As he was measuring the two of us, he began to speak, "Every core for my wands, Mr. Potter, Miss Power, is made of a powerful magical substance. Unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons make up the cores of the wands. There are no two Ollivander wands that are the same, similar to how no two unicorns, phoenixes, and dragons are the same. And, naturally, you won't ever get the same kind of results with another wizard or witches' wand."

 

I blinked in surprise as I watched the tape measure now, which was measuring Harry of it's own accord, measuring between his nostrils as Mr. Ollivander was moving from one shelf to the next, taking several thin boxes from each neat pile.

 

"That'll do," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, making the tape measure crumple into a heap on the floor. "All right, then, Mr. Potter, Miss. Power, why don't the two of you try these? Mr. Potter has a nice and flexible nine inch beechwood with a dragon heartstring core. Miss Power, your's is nice and supple, ten inch pine with a unicorn hair corn. Just take them and give them each a nice little wave."

 

Harry and I each took the wands and, glancing uneasily at each other, feeling like a couple of children trying to do magic tricks, and raised the wands to try, but Mr. Ollivander almost immiedately snatched them away from us.

 

"Let's see, whippy, seven inch maple with phoenix feather and a sturdy, seven inch oak with dragon heartstring. Go ahead -"

 

Neither of us had even managed to lift our arms again when both wands were snatched up by Mr. Ollivander as well.

 

"No, no, no - here, Mr. Potter, springy, eight-and-a-half inch unicorn cored ebony, Miss Power, a flexible, eight inch birch with phoenix feather core. Go on, try them out."

 

Harry and I kept trying more and more wands, without getting the chance to try the wand the other had. Neither of us knew what Mr. Ollivander was looking for, was waiting for us to do, but neither of us was willing to ask as the pile of tested wands on the spindly chair grew. But no matter how many wands we tried, it didn't diminish Mr. Ollivander's happy mood, but only seemed to make it brighter.

 

"A couple of trickster customers, hm? Well, it's nothing to worry about, we'll find both your perfect matches somewhere - hmm, I wonder.... - yes, I think we should give it a try, although they are both uncommon combinations - both eleven inches, one a nice and supple holly while the other is a rather flexible willow, both with phoenix feather cores...."

 

Harry and I reached for the wands, Harry taking the holly wand while I took the willow. Warm shot through my fingers into my hand as I wrapped them around the wand, which felt right against my palm as I held it close. A tingle ran through my entire body as I stared at it, my hair prickling as my heart rate quickened, just slightly, not enough to be alarming, but enough to cause excitement to curl in my stomach. As though we were one being, Harry and I raised the wands above our heads and then brought them swishing down through the air. Twin streams of red and gold sparks shot from our wand tips, sparkling bright against the walls like a firework. Hagrid gave a great whoop of celebration and clapped his hands together as Mr. Ollivander did, grinning widely.

 

"Oh, bravo, Mr. Potter, Miss Power! That was excellent, yes indeed. Quite excellent. But this is quite curious...yes, very curious indeed...."

 

He took our wands once more and put them back in the boxes they had come in before he started wrapping them in brown paper as he continued to mutter that single word.

 

"Ex-excuse me, sir, but, um..." I gulped and looked quietly at Harry before looking at Mr. Ollivander again, "pardon me for being rude, but...what is curious?"

 

Mr. Ollivander lifted his silvery eyes to Harry and I once more as they grew slightly wider, giving him an owlish appearance now.

 

"I do not forget a single wand I have made or sold, Mr. Potter, Miss Power. I remember every....single....wand. You see, the phoenix who so graciously provided the core for both your wands, gave another, but, just one other. I find it quite curious that the two of you are destined for these wands when the wand that has the same feather as both of yours, your wands' brother, gave you both those scars."

 

Something cold clutched at my heart and seeped downward to curl in my stoamch like a heavy, laden ball. I gulped thickly, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat.

 

"Yes, a thirteen-and-a-half inch yew...powerful wand indeed. It is quite curious how things happened the way they did, but remember, the wand chooses the wizard....We all expect great things from the two of you, Mr. Potter, Miss Power. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did terrible things, after all, terrible, yes, but great."

 

I shivered uncomfortably, the hair all over my body standing on end again, but this time, it wasn't because of exciliration. I could feel a great deal of respect for Mr. Ollivander, but I knew I wouldn't ever feel truly comfortable being around him for long. Harry and I each paid seven gold Galleons for our wands and nodded to Mr. Ollivander as he bowed us out.

 

It was late afternoon now, the sun hung so low in the sky it looked to be resting atop the shop roofs as Harry, Hagrid, and I made our way back up Diagon Alley and through the wall, into the now empty Leaky Cauldron. Neither Harry nor I spoke a word as we made our way back through London, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I only came back long enough to notice the stares as we traveled with our packages and the snow/raven owls in my and Harry's laps. We got off the train at Paddington station and climbed another escalator and I glanced around us to see where we were while Hagrid offered to get Harry something to eat before we were due to catch our next train.

 

The three of us sat down at a small table to eat the hamburgers Hagrid bought. I kept looking around at all the ordinary Muggle things, seeing them in a whole new light. After the day Harry and I had had, everything seemed different, espeically since we knew the world we grew up in was not the only world, was not our world. Everything not....just seemed so....ordinary....boring, somehow....

 

"Are the two of yeh all right, Harry, Cheyenne? Yeh've both been real quiet since we left Ollivanders," Hagrid said.

 

Harry and I glanced silently at one another, frowning deeply as we chewed our hamburgers. I knew this had been the best birthday Harry had ever had and I was grateful to Hagrid for giving Harry such a great one, but....

 

"Hagrid....all those people we met....they all think we're special...." I said with a deep sigh. "But how can we be special if neither of us knows anything about magic? How can we be expected to do great things? Neither of us even remember how we became famous in the first place, even though all of you have told us. We don't even remember what happened the night we lost all our parents."

 

Hagrid leaned toward us across the table, a kind smile hidden under all that wild hair of his.

 

"Don' either of yeh worry, Harry, Cheyenne, yeh'll both learn fast enough. The two of you will be the same as any of the others who first start at Hogwarts, you'll both be starting at the beginning, just as everyone else. Yeh'll both be fine, just try ta be yerselves, it isn't that hard. It's try, the two of yeh've been singled out and that isn't always easy, but I know yeh'll both enjoy Hogwarts, just as I did and still do."

 

His words brought slight reassurance that things would be okay. A weak smile tweaked my lips as I looked up at him, sighing softly and nodding in agreement. It was not long before we finished our meal and Hagrid helped the two of us onto a train that would bring us back to the Dursleys. However, before we were due to take off, he handed us a single envelope, which we took with raised eyebrows.

 

"Those are yer tickets fer Hogwarts," he explained. "Yer both ter catch the train on September first, at King's Cross station. All the information's on yer tickets. And if those Dursleys give either o' yeh anymore trouble, don' be afraid ter send me a letter with one o' yer owls, either will know where ter find me....I'll see yeh both soon, Harry, Cheyenne."

 

Harry and I sat across from each other on the train, leaning over to look out the window and watch Hagrid as the train started to pull out of the station. We both pressed our nose against the glass, staring out onto the platform as he smiled and waved, but with the next blink of our eyes, Hagrid had disappeared.


	6. Our Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

The final month leading up to our first day of school was long and anything but fun. The Dursleys' treatment of Harry and I had changed, with Dudley being so afraid of us he wouldn't even stay in the same room, while his parents ignored us completely. Both a mixture of terrified and furious, they acted as though my and Harry's existence was null and void, rather than punishing us as they normally would have, in ways of shouting or even locking us away in our separate cupboard and closet, as before. It was nice not to be forced into the small spaces anymore, or even shouted at for something we didn't have any control over, but being completely ignored as though we were nothing but air did become rather depressing after a while.

Due to these new living conditions and thanks to the supplies we had gotten for school, Harry and I had an excuse to stay in our shared room for days at a time without having to bother to leave it, with our new owls and each other for company. We had named our owls together after reading a little into our new book, _A History of Magic,_ deciding upon the name Hedwig for the snowy female, while the raven black male was bestowed with the name Elon. The rest of our school books were just as fascinating as the first, which made it easy to get into them, resulting in late night book sessions as Hedwig and Elon swooped in and out of our window to hunt, moving about freely they pleased, each with their own prey, which included dead mice and sometimes frogs. Luckily, Aunt Petunia didn't come into our room to vacuum anymore like she used to, or she would have thrown a fit over the amount of owl pellets and bones left behind. Each night before bed, Harry would tick off another day on the homemade calender we'd pinned up on the wall on his side of the room, keeping track of the days remaining to September 1st.

It wasn't until the final day of August that Harry and I worked up the courage to ask Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to drive us to the station the next day to catch our train. That evening, as they were sitting with Dudley in the living room watching a quiz show on television, we ventured downstairs and stepped into the room, both of us clearing our throats quietly to let them know of our presence. Our cousin took one look at the pair of us, gave a single scream, and dashed from the room.

"Erm, Uncle Vernon, could we speak with you?"

Uncle Vernon grunted as a way to let us know he was listening.

"U-um, we-well, y-you see, t-tomor-tomorrow s-s-starts our fi-first day of t-term a-at Hogwarts a-and w-well...t-to get to th-the school, w-we need to c-catch a t-t-train a-at King's C-Cross...." I stammered nervously, wincing slightly and moving backward, silently afraid Uncle Vernon would finally break his silence and snap at us for saying the name of our school. But he just grunted again.

"We were just wondering...if maybe you could give us a lift there tomorrow?" Harry asked, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

A third grunt, which we took to mean yes.

"Th-thank you."

Harry turned, ushering me toward the door so we could leave and head upstairs again, but right as we reached it, Uncle Vernon finally spoke.

"Rather an odd way to get to a wizarding school, the train, isn't it? What, have all their magic carpets got punctures?" he snickered as we turned to face him again. Neither Harry nor I said anything to his remark.

"So, where is this school, if I might ask?"

"W-we....we really don't know...." I admitted sheepishly, rubbing my arm slightly, wondering this for the first time myself as Harry reached into his pocket to pull out our tickets. "It just says on our tickets that we need to catch the train at King's Cross station at eleven o'clock, on platform nine and three-quarters."

Aunt Petunia stopped knitting and looked around at us as her husband did, both their eyebrows arching as they stared.

"Platform _what?!"_

"Ni-nine a-and th-three-q-quarters." I said, leaning over to read the tickets Harry was holding.

"Don't be talking rubbish, girl," Uncle Vernon snapped, making me wince again. "There isn't such a thing as platform nine and three-quarters."

"Well...that's what it says on our tickets," Harry pointed out.

"Barking mad, the lot of them...." Uncle Vernon muttered darkly, shaking his head. "The two of you will see, just you wait. All right, we'll take the two of you to King's Cross station tomorrow, since it's on our way into London anyway."

"Wh-why go th-there? D-do you ha-have business....?" I asked timidly.

"We have to take Dudley to the hospital." Uncle Vernon growled lowly. "We can't very well send him off to Smeltings with that ruddy tail, now can we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Harry and I awoke together at around five o'clock and neither of us could hold still long enough to even attempt to try and go back to sleep. We got up, talking nervously about what Hogwarts would be like through the curtain dividing the room while we dressed, pulling on jeans and t-shirts so we wouldn't stand out in the crowds when we walked into the station. We would put our robes on on the train. Once we were dressed, I sat down on the bed and read through our Hogwarts lists while Harry checked both our trunks to be sure we had everything, then we made sure Hedwig and Elon were shut safely in their cages, before Harry started to pace the length of the room while we waited for the Dursleys to get up. A few hours later, once my and Harry's huge, heavy trunks had been loaded into the Dursleys' car and Aunt Petunia had persuaded Dudley to sit next to Harry and I in the backseat, we were off.

It was half past ten when we arrived at King's Cross station. Uncle Vernon dumped my and Harry's trunks into a couple of carts, then wheeled Harry's into the station with Harry following him with my cart. Both of us exchanged looks, thinking Uncle Vernon was being a bit too friendly....his actions, however, were explained once we arrived inside. A sneer crossed his lips as we stopped, facing the platforms.

"Well, would you look at that, there's platform nine and platform ten. Your platform is probably somewhere in the middle, but, oh dear, it looks as though it hasn't been built yet." he said mockingly, grinning nastily at the two of us as we stared at the platforms, seeing one was marked with a big number nine, while the other was marked with a big number ten. In the middle, it was empty.

"Have a good term, you two," Uncle Vernon said, his sneer deepening. He turned and left Harry and I in the station with our carts and a few minutes later, the Dursleys' car drove past, with all three of them laughing heartily. I felt my heart sink into my stomach as my mouth ran dry. Harry and I exchanged looks and I knew we were both wondering the same thing: if there was no platform nine and three-quarters, then how were we going to get to Hogwarts? People were beginning to stop and stare at us, looking curiously at the owls we were carrying. I gulped thickly, avoiding many of their gazes as I looked to Harry, knowing we would have to ask someone who worked here where platform nine and three-quarters was.

Harry stopped a guard passing by, but neither of us mentioned platform nine and three-quarters. However, he hadn't even heard about Hogwarts and when Harry and I failed to provide the school's location, he began to get annoyed, as though he thought Harry and I were being stupid on purpose. We were beginning to get desperate, so Harry and I asked if there was a train that was leaving at eleven, but the guard told us there wasn't one. Finally, he left, muttering about time wasters. I took a deep breath, doing my best to keep calm as panic crossed Harry's features. We glanced up toward the large clock hung up over the arrivals board, seeing we only had ten minutes left to catch our train and we were no closer to finding out how exactly to do that than when we first arrived. We were just a couple of kids, stranded in the middle of the train station, with a couple of trunks neither of us could lift on our own, each with a pocketful of wizard gold, as well as a couple of large owls.

Hagrid must've forgotten how to tell us what we had to do to catch the train; maybe it was something similar to what you had to do to get into Diagon Alley? I looked to Harry, wondering if one of us should take out our wands and tap the bricks of the ticket inspector's station between platforms nine and ten.

A family of red-heads suddenly passed us by and I glanced toward them, turning away to speak to Harry again when I caught a snippet of their conversation.

" -packed with Muggles, as usual -"

My heart leapt in my chest as I looked to Harry with wide eyes before we whirled around together to see who had spoken, our eyes landing on the plump woman leading the group of children through the station, her head turned to speak to the four boys each pushing a cart in front of them, sporting trunks like ours with the eldest....carrying an _owl!_

Harry and I exchanged excited/nervous glances before we grabbed the handles of our carts and pushed off after them, stopping behind them once they had, just close enough to where we could still hear the woman's voice over the babble of the rest of the station.

"What's the number of the platform again?" the boys' mother asked.

"Nine and three-quarters!" It was the little red-haired girl hanging onto the mother's hand that answered, blinking big brown eyes up at her as she bounced excitedly on her heels. "Oh mum, can't I go too?"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now shh. All right, Percy, you go on ahead first."

The eldest son, the one with the owl, marched forward, pausing between platforms nine and ten. Harry and I leaned on the handles of our carts, frowning deeply as we watched, trying our best not to blink and miss anything. The boy headed for the barrier dividing the platforms, but just as he reached it, a large crowd of tourists obscured our vision, blocking him from view. By the time the last backpack had cleared, the boy was gone.

"Fred, you're up next," the woman said, nodding to one of the twins waiting to go next.

"No no, I'm not Fred, I'm George." the twin said with a grin at his mother. "And you call yourself our mother, honestly? Can't you tell the difference between us at all?"

"I'm sorry, George, dear."

"Nah, I'm just joking, I am Fred." The boy chortled, turning his cart toward the barrier while his mother shook her head after him, an amused smile on her lips. I put a hand to my mouth and giggled myself in amusement, cocking my head curiously; he was funny. He had a rather quick wit about him. My thoughts were quickly interrupted when Fred's twin called after him to hurry it up and I could see him pick up his pace, hurrying toward the barrier as fast as he was able. Seconds later, he, too, had disappeared without a trace. How in the -?!

The third brother walked briskly toward the barrier, disappearing just a couple of feet from it. There was no other way to describe it.

"E-excuse me, m-miss," I said quickly to the plump woman, trying to catch her attention.

"Oh hello dears," she said with a kind smile. "Hogwarts first years? Ron's one, too/"

She nodded to the youngest of her sons, who had a tall, thin, and gangly frame, while his face was decorated with freckles. His hands and feet looked rather big for his body and he had a rather long nose.

"Yes, we're first years," Harry said with a small smile. "But, er, Chey and I don't exactly know...how to, eh..." he nodded toward the barrier where her older sons had already disappeared.

"How to get onto the platform?" she asked us kindly and we nodded together, smiling sheepishly.

"Well, don't worry too much about that, dears, it's quite simple," she told us. "Now, all you two have to do is walk straight at the wall separating platforms nine and ten. Don't stop or worry about crashing into it, just remember that, okay? If either of you is nervous, it's always bet to do it at a bit of a run. Go on, you two can go before Ron."

"Th-thank you," I said, inclining my head politely to her as I pulled my trolley around to face the barrier, gulping at how solid it looked before I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I started to walk toward it, trying my best to ignore the people that jostled me as they passed, moving between platforms nine and ten. I picked up my pace until I was practically running, vaguely aware that I was going to be in big troble when I crashed into the barrier. I leaned heavily on the bar, pushing myself harder, clenching my eyes as I got closer, hearing Harry call after me to stop, knowing I couldn't. I was losing control of my cart, just a foot from the crash -

But it never came. I began to slow, unclenching my eyes and opening them, slowly, peeking through my lashes to see what had happened. I'd stopped in the middle of another platform, swarming with people, adults ushering their children onto a scarlet steam engine parked on the tracks, bellowing clouds of thick gray smoke from it's engine. I glanced up at the sign hung overhead, reading: _Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock._ I immediately whirled to look behind me, surprised to see a wrought-iron archway from where I'd come, marked with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters._ I-I'd made it....I'd gotten through!

The relief and joy I felt at getting through the barrier and finding my way onto the platform Harry and I'd thought existed was doubled as my best friend appeared under the archway, joining me just seconds later, his face breaking into a smile when he saw he'd made it through as well. He pulled his trolley up beside mine and we pushed off into the crowd, looking for a couple of seats, passing under the cloud of smoke the train issued above while we felt cats brushing our ankles as they slinked off between the legs of the gathered crowd, small flashes of color catching the corners of our eyes as they did so, our ears filled with the sounds of other owls hooting around us, communicating with one another through the bars of their cages as their owners moved them about, trying to make themselves heard over the babbling crowd and the scraping of heavy trunks on the concrete. Elon hooted at the noises and lifted his head, blinking sleepily as he turned his head around to see what all the commotion was about while I pushed him ahead of me.

We passed the first few carriages, which were already filled with students, a few leaning out their open windows to have a few last minute conversations with their parents and families, while others fought over who could sit where. We pushed on, glancing in each window in an attempt to find an empty compartment, passing a round-faced young man who was speaking with the old woman accompanying him, saying something about losing his toad. His grandmother sighed his name quietly in disappointment.

Further along, we passed a small crowd surrounding another young man with dreadlocks, holding a small box in his hands. One of the others encouraged the boy, whose name we came to learn was Lee, to show them what was inside. Shrieks and yells escaped the crowd as he finally relented and lifted the lid, which caused something big and hairy to poke a single leg out. An uncomfortable shiver ran the length of my spine at the sight and I quickly hurried after Harry once more.

Harry and I had almost reached the back of the train when we finally found an empty compartment, where we put Hedwig and Elon first before we tried to shove and heave our trunks, one by one, toward the train door. When we tried to lift mine up the steps, we had a hard time even lifting it off the ground and we each received bruises on our feet where we'd dropped it on them.

"Hey, do the two of you need some help? A voice drew our attention, making us turn, spotting one of the red-haired twins we'd seen go through the barrier before us.

"Y-yes, p-p-please," I panted with a grateful nod.

"Oi, Fred! C'mere, we need your help!"

Thanks to the twins, Harry and I were finally able to heave our trunks onto the train and stash them away in a couple of corners of our compartment.

"Thanks for the help, Chey and I really appreciate it," Harry said as he wiped his forehead, sweeping the bangs from his eyes. The twins suddenly froze, staring at the two of us with wide-eyes.

"Woah, what's that on your forehead?" One twin asked, pointing to Harry's scar.

"Blimey," the other twin whispered, almost breathlessly. "He must be -"

"He is!" The first twin turned to look at me in wonder. "And that must mean you're -"

"E-eh, wh-what?" I asked timidly, looking away with a frown.

"The famous P-Team, Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power!" the twins chorused.

"Oh, yeah, them...." Harry said with a sigh. "Erm, I-I mean, yes, we're Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power."

The twins' mouths fell open as they gawked at us and I felt heat raising in my cheeks as I shuffled closer to Harry, who was slowly turning red himself. Suddenly, through, a new voice floated through the open train door, coming to my and Harry's rescue.

"Fred, George? Are you both in there?"

"Yeah, mum, we're coming."

The twins took one last look at Harry and I before they turned and hopped off the train, leaving the two of us to get comfortable in our compartment, where we settled down across from one another in the seats next to the windows, where, half-hidden, we could watch the flaming haired family talking on the platform. Being so close, we could hear what they were saying as the woman had pulled a handkerchief from her pocket.

"Ron, you've got a smudge on your nose."

The youngest of the boys tried to jerk out of her reach, but she managed to grab him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mum - geroff!" he growled, managing to wriggle free from his mother's grasp.

"Aah, ickle Ronniekin's got somefink on his noise!" one of the twins teased with a mischivious smile.

"Shut up," Ron said, his ears turning a shade of red close to the color that his nose now reflected.

"Where has Percy gone?" their mother asked as she returned her handkerchief to her pocket, causing the three to look around before one of the twins pointed through the crow at the eldest boy as he strode into sight, already wearing his billowing black Hogwarts robes, the artifical lights overhead reflecting off the shiny silver badge pinned to his chest, which sported a large letter 'P'.

"I'm sorry I can't stay long, mother," he said formally, nodding his head. "But all the prefects are needed to report to the front of the train for instruction -"

"ooooh, Percy's a prefect?!" One of the twins exclaimed in surprise, his eyes widening a little too dramatically. "Why, we had no idea! Percy, you really should have said something!"

"Wait a minute, I think he did mention it," the second twin interjected with a growing smirk. "Perhaps once -"

"Or twice -"

"One minute -"

"All summer -"

"Oh, just shut up," Percy the Prefect snapped, his ears turning red like his younger brother's had.

"And how come Percy got to get new robes, anyway?" one of the twins asked, looking critically to their mother, who just smiled.

"Because he's been made a prefect, that's why." she said fondly, fixing the front of Percy's robes as she did. "All right, Percy, dear, now I want you to have a good term, be sure to send me an owl when you're all settled in."

She kissed Percy's cheek before he nodded and left, leaving her to turn to the twins now.

"Now, I want the two of you to behave yourselves this year. I don't want to get another owl telling us you've...you've, oh, I don't know, blown up a toilet or -"

"We haven't blown up any toilets."

"Does sound like a fun idea though, thanks, Mum."

I bit my bottom lip and put a hand to my lips again, giggling in amusement, finding both the twins humorous. If they were this good with jokes, they could possibly make a career out of being comedians or something within that field. Their mother narrowed her eyes on them.

"That is not funny. And be sure to look after Ron, remember, it's his first year."

"Don't worry, we'll make sure ickle Ronnie is taken care of, he's safe under our care."

Ron, already almost the twin's height, glared at his brothers with a scowl, but they ignored him, their attention fully on their mother.

"Hey Mum, guess who two people we just met on the train!"

Harry leaned as far back into his seat as he could while I slid down in mine, both of us trying to avoid that awkward moment when we were caught staring when we really shouldn't be.

"You remember that black-haired boy and the brunette girl with him, both of them wearing glasses, the ones that followed us in the station? Do you know who they are?"

"Who?"

"Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power!"

The little girl squealed in surprise, bouncing up on her heels, her eyes widening.

"Oh, mum, can I go and see them, go up on the train? Please!?"

"You've already seen both of them, Ginny, those poor kids aren't an attraction at the zoo you can just goggle at. Are they really the famous team, Fred? How do you know?"

"We asked them and saw one of their scars. They really have them, they're like lightning!"

"Those poor dears, I wondered where their parents were. They were so polite, too, when they asked how to get through the barrier. The poor girl seemed rather nervous, but she was still very polite."

"Do you suppose they remember what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother's eyes tightened and she frowned deeply at the twins.

"I forbid the two of you from asking them, that is the last thing they'll want to remember on their first day of school."

"All right, we won't ask them, don't have a cow."

A shrill whistle pierced the air, causing a few people to jump.

"Hurry, get on the train!" The boys' mother said, quickly ushering them onto the train, where they closed the door and leaned out the window to give her good-bye kisses as their younger sister burst into tears.

"Aw, Ginny, don't cry, we'll be sure to send loads of owls."

"Yeah, maybe we'll even send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"It was just a joke, mum."

Their mother only shook her head as the train began to pull away from the station, waving after them, while their sister, who was now caught between crying and laughing, ran alongside it, trying to keep up until it gathered speed and pulled away, leaving her behind to wave, too. The trained turned the next bend and she and her mother had disappeared, leaving Harry and I to relax back into our seats and watch the houses that flashed past the window. I held one of my new school books closer, the last book I was reading through, feeling my heart leap in excitement at the prospect of what could be awaiting us at this new school, knowing it had to be better than the life Harry and I had been living so far.

The sound of the compartment door sliding open caught our attention and Harry and I turned, seeing the youngest red-haired boy standing in the doorway.

"Is anyone else sitting in here? There aren't any other empty seats anywhere." he said, nodding to the empty seats beside Harry and I. I smiled warmly, shaking my head.

"No, Harry and I are sitting alone. You can have my seat by the window, if you want it, company is welcome." I told him friendlily as I got up and moved over to sit next to Harry. The boy nodded his head gratefully and took my empty seat, glancing at Harry and I quickly for a moment before he moved his gaze away again, turning his attention to the window and pretending he hadn't been looking. I noticed there did seem to be a dark smudge on his nose and giggled lightly to myself before I settled back in my seat and opened my book to continue reading. But then someone knocked on the frame of the door, drawing our attention again. It was the twins again.

"Hey Ron, we're gonna head on up to the middle of the train, Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula and we want to see it before we get to school." One of the twins said, nodding to his younger brother, who nodded his head in reply, mumbling his agreement as I shuddered at the thought of a big spider like a tarantula. Why someone would want something big and hairy like that as a pet, I don't think I'd ever be able to understand.

"Harry, Cheyenne." the sound of my name caught my attention and I looked up at the twins again, cocking my head curiously. "I don't think we got the chance to properly introduce ourselves. Fred and George Weasley. This is our younger brother, Ron. Well, we'll see you both later then, aye?" The one named Fred smiled in my direction, causing heat to raise in my cheeks as I shyly averted my eyes, looking down at my book again, my heart skipping a beat in my chest as Harry and Ron said goodbye to the two and the sound of the compartment door sliding shut announced their departure.

"So...are the two of you really Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power?" Ron asked almost as soon as they were gone, making me look up and blink before I cocked my head and giggled again, nodding alongside Harry.

"Blimey, I thought maybe it was just one of Fred and George's jokes," Ron said slowly, taking a good, long look at the two of us. "So do the two of you, you know...?"

He pointed to my and Harry's foreheads.

Harry and I looked at one another, both of us tangling our fingers in our bangs to move them out of the way, revealing our twin lightning scars. Ron blinked in surprise.

"That's where....You-Know-Who -"

"Yeah," Harry and I said together, smiling weakly "We really can't remember much, though...."

"Can either of you remember anything?" Ron asked, tilting his head curiously.

I looked at Harry for a moment, frowning deeply as he furrowed his brows in thought. "Well...there is one thing we can remember, but it's just a bunch of green light...." he admitted with a small smile.

"Wow, really?" Ron asked, blinking quickly as he stared at Harry and I for a few minutes. Heat touched my cheeks again as I looked shyly at my book once more, only looking up again when I felt Ron turn his gaze away.

"So, erm, Ron, do you come from a family of wizards?" I asked him curiously, wanting to know more about him, finding him just as fascinating as he found Harry and I, especially since it seemed as though he understood the magical world, possibly because he'd probably lived in it his entire life, unlike Harry and I.

"Hm, I believe so, but I think we might have a second cousin that's an accountant, but we really don't talk about him much," Ron said thoughtfully. I smiled lightly at him, cocking my head slightly.

"So, if your family is mostly wizards, then you must know some magic already, right? Your parents must do a lot of magic around the house." I said, setting my book in my lap to speak with Ron directly without appearing rude. His family sounded like it might be one of those old wizarding families the pale boy we'd med in Diagon Alley had been talking about.

"I heard the two of you had to go and live with Muggles," Ron said, cocking his head slightly. "What's that like?"

I sighed slowly, "It's awful....our aunt and uncle don't particularly like us, especially since we're a witch and wizard. They've treated us poorly since we were little kids. Harry and I actually spent most of our lives sleeping in a cupboard and closet, and we were treated like a punching bag by our cousin, too. But then, not all the Muggles around were that horrible, there were some that were really nice. We wish we could've grown up in a wizarding family, too. The only ones we've ever really had was each other."

Ron sighed deeply at that, "Well, if the two of you had had to grow up with five older brothers, you'd both probably think differently." A gloomy expression descended on his face then and I cocked my head worriedly, wondering what could be wrong. "I'm the sixth son to go to Hogwarts and I know I have a lot to live up to. My two oldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, have already left Hogwarts and went off to get their own jobs. Bill was a prefect and head boy, while Charlie was captain of the house Quidditch team. Now Percy's become a prefect and Fred and George have a lot of friends and get good marks, even if they do mess around a lot. Everyone expects such great things of me....but then, even if I do something great, it won't be that big a deal because I would've just done it after them. Coming from such a big family, you don't exactly get anything new, either. Right now, I'm wearing Bill's old robes, I've got Charlie's old wand, and since Percy's got an owl, I was given Scabbers."

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled a fat gray rat out from within, the creature fast asleep in his palm.

"He really doesn't do much, so he's rather useless. He mostly just sleeps. After he was made a prefect, dad got Percy an owl, but they couldn't really get me a - er, I mean, yeah, I've got Scabbers....

Ron's ears turned pink this time and he quickly returned his attention to the window, looking embarrassed that he had said so much.

Harry and I looked at one another, understanding exactly how Ron must feel, since the two of us had spend a great deal of our own lives with little to no money at all. We had only really ever gotten our money last month, so we knew how it felt not to be able to afford anything. We returned our attention to Ron, telling him about this, telling him about us having to use Dudley's old clothes as ours and having to gather change from the couches and chairs just to get a little something for each other for our birthdays. Ron seemed to cheer up at this and relaxed a little bit, too.

"...it wasn't until Hagrid came to tell us about being a witch and a wizard that Chey and I knew anything about the wizarding world, or even our parents. We didn't even know about Voldemort -"

Ron gasped and his eyes widened as he put his hands to his mouth. I blinked quickly, quirking a brow curiously at him.

"What, what is it?" I asked, wondering what could be wrong.

_"Harry said You-Know-Who's name!"_ Ron whispered in a shocked and impressed voice as he looked, wide-eyed, at my best friend. "I-I mean, I know what he did to you two, but I hadn't thought -"

I looked at Harry as he raised an eyebrow slowly. "Well, neither of us are trying to be brave by saying the name, we just, well..." I looked slowly to Ron again, cocking my head. "We never knew we weren't supposed to say the name....we've still got loads to learn about the magical world. Hopefully we're not too far behind everyone else, though...." I said, sighing slowly as Harry took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Both of us were worried we weren't going to fit in here, like we didn't fit in with the Muggle children at our old school and we hoped we weren't going to be the worst students of our year. Ron smiled reassuringly to us.

"Don't worry, I'm sure neither of you are going to be too far behind everyone else, there are plenty of kids who come from Muggle families who learn what they need to quick enough."

I smiled gratefully to him at his words, nodding my head as I turned to look out the window, seeing we had been carried out of London and into the countryside, where fields sped past the windows, cows and sheep scattered here and there among the landscape. The three of us lapsed into silence for a while then, watching the fields and farms pass.

A great clattering noise came from the corridor at about half past twelve and when the compartment door slid open again, a smiling, dimpled witch stood in the doorway, pushing a candy cart in front of her.

"Would any of you like anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked kindly.

Harry and I immediately leapt to our feet, our stomachs rumbling loudly in unison; neither of us had had breakfast that morning, since we were so excited and nervous about getting to the station to catch our train to school. Ron, however, turned pink around the ears again as he murmured that he'd brought a sandwich with him. Harry and I went out into the corridor to check out the cart to see what the witch had, neither of us having had any money for candy like Dudley had had. Now that we each had our own money to buy what we wanted and needed, we were both eager to buy ourselves as many Mars Bars and Herseys' chocolate bars as we could get our hands on. However, it didn't look as though the woman had either of those, but instead a great deal of candy neither Harry nor I had ever heard of before. There were boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, packets of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, packs of Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, just to name a few of the strange and unusual candies. Between the two of us, Harry and I pooled our money and bought a little of everything, handing over eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts together.

Ron blinked as he watched us carry our sweets back into the compartment and dump them onto the empty seat next to him, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Hungry are the two of you?" he asked curiously.

"We're starved, we haven't eaten all day," I told him with a sheepish smile as I bit into one of the Cauldron Cakes, humming happily as I leaned back into my seat, watching as Ron pulled a lumpy package out of his pocket and unwrapped it, revealing four sandwiches within. He picked at one of them and made a face, sighing slowly. "She knows I don't like corned beef..."

"Here Ron, we'll swap you one of these pumpkin pasties for your sandwiches." I told him kindly with a smile as I offered him one of the said sweets.

"Ah, neither of you would want these, they're always dry." Ron told us, frowning deeply and turning red around the ears again. "Since there are so many of us, she doesn't always have time...."

I smiled gently at him as Harry insisted Ron take one of our pastries; the two of us had never had anyone else but each other to trade or share our meager things with. It felt nice to be able to sit with a peer like this, talking about things in our world as we shared my and Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies while Ron's sandwiches lay forgotten on an empty seat.

"Hey Ron, what are these things supposed to be?" I asked curiously as I picked up the pack of Chocolate Frogs we'd bought, looking at them skeptically before I looked to Ron with a fown. "This aren't _real_ frogs, are they?" I frowned, wondering if anything would surprise me anymore in this world.

"No, they're not real frogs, it's just chocolate," Ron reassured us with an amused chuckle. "But check the card, see which one you've got. I'm missing Agrippa."

I blinked rapidly at that. "Check the _what?"_

"Oh right, sorry, I forgot neither of you knew about the Chocolate Frogs - each frog has a card in it, collectable cards of famous witches and wizards. I've already got about five hundred cards myself, but I'm still missing a few wizards, like Agrippa and Ptolemy."

Harry pulled one of the Chocolate Frogs out of the package and unwrapped it, while I pulled the card out from underneath. A man with half-moon glasses perched on the end of a long, crooked nose smiled up at us as Harry leaned in to get a look and I frowned slightly at the strangely familiar face, watching the light gleaming off the long, flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache, a feeling of de ja vu flowing over me, making me wonder if I had seen this man somewhere before. Had Harry and I spotted him on the street somewhere? No, that couldn't be it...so then, where....?

"Hey, Chey and I got Dumbledore!"

Harry's voice broke through my bubble of thought and I rapidly shook my head to clear it, turning my head to look at my best friend, seeing he had taken the card from me while I'd been distracted with my own thoughts. I peered closer, seeing the name _Albus Dumbledore_ written under the picture. Ron laughed lightly.

"Ah, so the two of you have heard of Dumbledore, have you?" he said with a smile, cocking his head slightly. "Would either of you mind if I had a frog? I could get Agrippa - thanks -"

Harry turned the card over so we could read the back and I leaned my head against his shoulder to read with him.

**ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**

**Current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

_Dumbledore is considered by many of the wizarding community the greatest wizard of modern times, especially for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, as well as his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his alchemic work with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. He enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

When he turned the card over again, Harry and I were surprised to find the front quite empty.

"He disappeared!" I gasped, looking to Ron with wide-eyes.

"What, neither of you thought he'd stick around all day, did you?" Ron said, chuckling in amusement at our astonished expressions. "Don't worry about it, though, he'll be back. Ah no, I've got Morgana again and I've already got six of her....here, do the two of you want her? You can start your own collection."

Ron let his eyes wonder to the pile of Chocolate Frogs laying on the seat, waiting to be unwrapped.

"Go ahead and help yourself." I told him softly before I looked at the card again, cocking my head. "But this is strange, in Muggle pictures, the people don't move, they usually stay put."

"Really?" Ron looked around in amazement, raising his eyebrows in question. "They don't move at all? That's so _weird!"_

My gaze returned to the card in Harry's hand at the exact moment that Dumbledore decided to slide back into view, giving the two of us a small smile. Ron seemed more interested in eating the chocolate frogs than really looking at the collectable cards, while Harry and I couldn't bring ourselves to look away from the famous witches and wizards that smiled or made various faces up at us. With each new frog that was unwrapped, we received a new card and before long we had a handful of them, which included Dumbledore, Morgana, Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. When we were finally able to tear our eyes away from a picture of druidess Cliodna, a witch in the process of scratching her nose, we turned our attention to one of our other sweets, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You two should be careful with those," Ron warned us. "They literally mean every flavor, trust me. Yes, they'll have regular flavors, like chocolate and peppermint, as well as marmalade, but then, they also have spinach, liver, and tripe. George even swore to getting a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up one of the dark green beans and examined it carefully before he took a bite.

"Bleeeeeeh - see?! Sprouts."

The next couple of hours were spent with the three of us trying each bean, making faces at the odd flavors and then sharing hearty laughs afterward. I got butter, cream, sausage, banana, rice, dirt, orange juice, salmon, and I even split a funny gray bean with Harry, one Ron refused to touch, which we discovered was pepper.

I looked out the window again, watching the wild scenery flashing past, replacing the neat fields that had once been the picture beyond the glass. Now, only woods, twisting rivers, and lush green hills greeted our vision.

A knock at the compartment door drew our attention once more and the plump faced young man Harry and I had passed on the platform appeared in the doorway, his eyes red and puffy, while his cheeks were tear stained. He looked panicked, upset.

"I-I'm sorry for interrupting." he sniffed. "but I-I just wanted to ask...i-if any of you had seen a toad at all?"

I looked worriedly to Harry and Ron before returning my attention to the boy, shaking my head with the two, opening my mouth to apologize when he sniffed loudly, looking close to crying again. When he spoke again, he was practically wailing.

"I've lost him again, he just doesn't want to stay still!"

I got up and approached him slowly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiling reassuringly, cocking my head, "Don't worry, hun, I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere, you just have to keep looking. I could come help you, if you want." I offered with a soft smile. He sniffed again, shaking his head.

"N-no, I-I already have someone else helping me, but could you please just....keep an eye out for Trevor?" he asked meekly. I nodded my head in a promise, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "We promise."

He nodded, hesitating for a moment before he left the compartment. I watched him go, leaning out the door to watch him walk down the corridor for a moment before I slowly closed the door behind him.

"Don't know why losing his toad would bother him so much," Ron said as I returned to my seat beside Harry, taking another Chocolate Frog and biting it's head off as I checked out the card. "If I'd had to bring a toad, I'd've lost it as soon as I could. I can't really talk, though, since I've got Scabbers...."

Said rat was still asleep in Ron's lap.

"He could've died and you wouldn't have even known," Ron snorted in disgust. "I tried making him more interesting yesterday by turning him yellow, but the spell didn't work. Here, look...."

He scooted over to dig through his trunk and pull out a battered-looking wand, the wood chipped and dull, while there was a hole near the tip, where something glinted white in the light.

"Hm, the unicorn hair's beginning to poke out already....ah well..."

He settled back into his seat with his wand and raised it to perform the spell when the compartment door slid open again. The boy who had lost his toad had returned, this time accompanied by a bushy, brown haired girl with, well, probably rude to say it aloud, beaver-like teeth. She had already pulled on her Hogwarts robes.

"Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his," she asked, her voice holding a kind of bossy quality to it.

"We already told him we haven't seen his toad," Ron told her, but she apparently didn't hear him, since her eyes had immediately found the wand in his hand.

"Are you doing magic? It'd be wonderful to see some."

She took the empty seat beside Ron, her whole attention on him, waiting for him to prove the spell, while Ron blinked, taken aback by the sudden change.

"Er - all right, then." he said, looking back to Scabbers as he cleared his throat. I sat forward eagerly on my seat, waiting to see the kind of magic our new friend could perform.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn his stupid, far rat yellow."

He waved his wand as he spoke, but nothing changed. The rat remained gray and did not look as though he had been awoken or affected in the slightest. I sat back then, sighing, slightly disappointed.

"You sure that's a real spell you were using?" The girl asked, raising an eyebrow in question as Ron, causing Harry and I to look at her, blinking together before looking at one another. "It's not a very good one, is it? I've been trying really simple spells at home to make sure I have the skill and all of them have worked for me. There isn't a single magical person in my family, so it was quite a surprise when I received my acceptance letter, but I was so pleased, because I know Hogwarts is the best school of witchcraft around. I've already memorized all our course books and taken them to heart, so I hope it will be enough. Oh, I apologize, how rude of me, I'm Hermione Granger. Who are you three?"

I blinked slowly at her rapid speech, surprised someone could speak at such a pace, glancing up at Harry again as he just looked stunned. Ron's features mirrored his and I was glad to know I wasn't the only one here who was surprised at how quickly she'd spoke, although I knew Harry was probably surprised at the fact that Hermione had memorized all our books, too, just like I had. I knew not many people were able to do something like that and those who did were probably rare in each group, no matter the circumstances.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron murmured, nodding his head, just slightly. Harry quickly cleared his throat, wiping the shock from his features.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said with a small smile before he gestured to me and I smiled lightly, too, inclining my head politely to Hermione, "And this is my best friend, Cheyenne Power."

"Really?" Hermione said, looking around at the two of us with interest, cocking her head, just slightly. "Wow, you two are quite famous, you know, I've read all about you. When I went to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies, I made sure to pick up a few extra books for background reading of the magical world and you both were included in a lot of books, including _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Greatest Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._

"W-we are?" I squeaked in surprise, my cheeks warming at the thought of Harry and I being in such books. I mean, I knew what we'd done, but we could barely remember the night Voldemort had disappeared....how everyone could think we were great enough to be put in a book was just....wow.

"Didn't either of you know? If I was in either of your places, I would have found out everything I could," Hermione told us. "Anyway, do either of you have any inkling of the house you'll be in? I've asked around and by far, it seems as though Gryffindor is the best, even Dumbledore was in that house when he was in school, so I hope I'm a Gryffindor....although, Ravenclaw probably wouldn't be too bad. Oh, right, I apologize, Neville; we should probably go and find his toad before we arrive. We should be there soon, so I'd suggest the three of you change into your robes."

She left us without giving any of us time to answer any of her questions, taking Neville with her. I blinked after her, feeling a little light-headed and dizzy from the interrogation.

"Whatever house I'm put in, I hope she's not," Ron said, frowning after her as he tossed his wand back into his trunk and kicked it shut. "George gave me that stupid spell...I guess I should have realized it was a dud...."

"What house have your brothers been put in?" Harry asked him curiously, steering the conversation away from Hermione, Neville, and the toad.

"They're all in Gryffindor...." Ron sighed gloomily, shaking his head slowly. "Almost my entire family was in Gryffindor, so I'll probably be expected to be in that house, too....hopefully they won't be disappointed if I'm not, although, Ravenclaw probably won't be that bad, just like that girl said....but I would hate to imagine being put in Slytherin." he shuddered at the thought.

"You mean the house Vol - e-er, I-I, er, I-I mean, u-um....I-I apologize...I-I, er...." I winced slightly, trying my best not to frighten my new friend by saying Voldemort's name again. Ron looked at me with a frown, his brows furrowed worriedly.

"Yeah, that's the house You-Know-Who was in....are you okay, Cheyenne?" he asked me worriedly. I gulped and nodded quickly, thinking perhaps my stuttering was annoying him, but my silence only seemed to worry him more, as he kept his gaze on me and I turned my eyes downward, fiddling nervously with my shirt. Harry took one of my hands again and gave it a small squeeze, bringing me the comfort only he could bring me. Just being near my best friend seemed to sooth me, whether I was upset, or angry, sad, anything; the same seemed to hold true for him with me. We always knew we could rely on each other for anything, no matter what it was.

My head leaned lightly on Harry's shoulder as he explained my stuttering to Ron, who listened intently, frowning deeply. I'd first developed my stuttering habit when I'd begun to talk as a little kid, which seemed to have been when it had been at it's worst; living with the Dursleys all these years, being pushed around and bullied by all three had caused it. It was worse when I was scared, anxious, or upset, but especially if I thought I was annoying or irritating someone else, which had almost always seemed the case when it came to our aunt and uncle....when I'd first begun to talk, I would stutter all the time and it would irritate the Dursleys, which would only serve to make me more anxious and cause me to stutter even more, until one year, I just decided, maybe it would be best if I just didn't speak at all...I was silent that whole year, no one could get me to say a word, not my teachers, not the Dursleys, not even Harry. And yet, even through all that, he stayed with me, he stayed my best friend, and, at one point, he even joined me in my silence. It was during that time, when I couldn't hear my best friend's voice, when I couldn't hear the one voice that mattered the most to me, that I realized how I must have hurt Harry; in trying to stay out of trouble, in not bothering anyone, I'd....blocked my best friend out, I'd built a wall between us, something we had sworn we would have never done, even if we had not said it aloud to one another. I'd begun to speak again, but my stuttering problem remained, a problem Harry had helped me to overcome, reducing it to how it was now. Having Harry as my best friend, at least having someone there who understood, it was one of the only things that kept me going.

"Wow Cheyenne....I'm sorry that's how things are for you and Harry....and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable for prying." Ron said with an apologetic smile. I looked up at him, giving a small smile and shaking my head.

"No, it's okay. I-I....I'm just sorry if I irritated you with my stuttering...I know it's not really something everyone does and sometimes it can get on someone's nerves..." I said, looking down again.

"No, it's okay, you weren't irritating me, I was just worried I'd done something to upset you. Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded, watching Harry's thumb rubbing the back of my hand lightly, feeling a little self conscious and trying to think of a different subject to talk about so I wasn't the center of attention.

"So, Ron, what do you oldest brothers do? You know, now that they're not in Hogwarts, anymore." Harry asked, changing the subject for me, sensing that I wanted the conversation to steer in a different direction now. I squeezed his hand gratefully, smiling weakly. Both of us were curious about what kind of jobs a fully qualified wizard would have, too, as it could give us an idea of what we could do once we were done with school.

"Charlie moved to Romania to study dragons while Bill's got a place in Africa, working for Gringotts," Ron told us, sounding more than willing to change the subject. "Hey, did either of you hear about what happened at Gringotts? We've got a newspaper called the _Daily Prophet_ , and it's been all over it - someone tried to break into a high security vault this summer."

"What?" I looked up quickly at Ron, blinking quickly. "W-well, what happened to them? Did they catch the crooks?"

"No, that's what's so bizarre and why its such big news. Dad reckons it's a powerful Dark wizard that's tried it, especially if he was trying to get around Gringotts, but it doesn't look like they've taken anything, which makes it all the weirder. Everyone gets pretty wound up, anyway, if they think You-Know-Who's behind anything that's happened."

I looked slowly up at Harry in surprise, not expecting something like this; Gringotts was supposed to be secure, one of the most protected buildings in the wizarding world, from what Hagrid's told us. My skin prickled uneasily as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, the thought of You-Know-Who causing a shiver of fear to run the length of my spine. This all, though, was just a part of entering the magical world....but, somehow...just saying 'Voldemort' without having to worry about it seemed more natural than just tip-toeing around it like it was a ticking timebomb....

"Hey, do either of you have a Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Er....Harry and I don't exactly know any Quidditch teams," I told him with a sheepish smile. "Raised by Muggles, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot for a moment, sorry," Ron rubbed his neck slightly before he shook his head, smiling brightly. " But just you two wait, Quidditch is the greatest game in the whole world -" He went on to explain all about the four balls used in the game, the seven to eight players, each of their positions and he even described famous games he'd seen with his brothers and parents, as well as the broomstick he wanted to et if he could afford it. He was just working through the finer points of the game when our compartment door slid open again, but it was neither Neville nor Hermione.

Three boys stood in the doorway, the pale, pointy faced young man we'd met in Diagon Alley standing in between the two others, two husky young men built for sports or hard labor, similar to Dudley and his gang at school. I gulped thickly at the sight, looking to the pale boy standing in between the two of them. He eyed Harry and I silently, cocking his head, a look of interest in his eyes that he had lacked when we'd first met him in the shop.

"Are the rumors true?" he asked. "Everyone's saying all up and down the train that Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power are in this compartment. So, it's the two of you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's us," Harry answered slowly, eyeing the bulky boys flanking him. Standing like that, they looked like they could be bodyguards.

"Oh, yes, this is Crabbe and Goyle," the pale boy carelessly gestured to the two others after noticing where my and Harry's gaze had been focused. "And, I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron coughed lightly, doing his best to hide a snigger, which failed to escape his notice.

"Oh, you think my name's funny, do you? Not like I need to ask yours. With that red hair and freckles, it's not hard, especially looking at those raggedy, hand-me-down robes. It's easy to spot a Weasley this way, knowing they always have more children than they could possibly afford."

He returned his attention once more to Harry and I, "The two of you will soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter, Power. Neither of you would want to end up with the wrong sort. I could be of help to you there."

He held out his hand for Harry and I to shake, but the two of us just looked quietly down at it a moment and exchanged looks before returning our attention once more to the boy.

"I think Chey and I could make up our own minds on this subject, thank you very much." Harry told him coolly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seats. I nodded my agreement, frowning up at the boy as I crossed my own arms.

A pink tinge touched Draco Malfoy's cheeks and his gray eyes hardened as he narrowed them on the two of us.

"I would watch my steps if I was either of you, Potter, Power," he warned us in a low, dangerous voice. "Unless either of you toe the line, you both could end up just as all your parents did. None of them understood what was good for them either. If either of you continue to associate yourselves with peasants like the Weasleys or even the Hogwarts gamekeeper, you both could end up just like them."

Harry and Ron pushed up from their seats at that, glaring at Malfoy and the two hawkling boys behind him, their fists clenched at their sides. I sat up straight, gently taking a hold of Harry's sleeve, worried at the thought of him and Ron getting hurt, even as I relished the thought of taking a swing at Malfoy myself. Crabbe and Goyle looked like they could dwarf me and like they both could deliver quite a punch and even if none of them did anything, I didn't want either of my friends to risk getting a detention before we had even reached school.

"You wanna try saying that again?" Ron growled, his cheeks reflecting the same tone as his hair.

"Oh, so the boys are going to fight us now, are they? Well then, perhaps while you two square off against Crabbe and Goyle, I could enjoy watching with Power here, while she feeds me chocolate." Malfoy sneered, casting me a grin around Harry, who shifted sideways to hide me from view, narrowing his eyes.

"I don't think so, Malfoy, now get out of our compartment." Harry said bravely, even though I could feel him trembling through the bit of shirt I was still holding. You couldn't really blame him, either, seeing as how his opponents were easily ten times bigger than he was and had a great deal more body mass than him, Ron, and I combined.

"Hm, no, I don't think we will. You see, Potter, we've eaten through all our food and we can clearly see you all still have some left. Didn't those Muggles of yours teach you and Power any kind of manners?" Malfoy snickered as Goyle leaned around Harry and Ron to grab one of the Chocolate Frogs. I leapt across the limited space to try to stop him, but before I could even lay a finger on the boy, he suddenly leapt backward, howling horribly and holding one of his hands in the other as he flailed it around. Something gray flew just inches past my face and I scrambled backward rapidly, trying to get a better look.

Hanging from one of Goyle's knuckles was Scabbers, who had fastened his sharp little teeth deep into the boy's skin. Crabbe and Malfoy quickly backed away as they watched their friend swinging his hand around in an attempt to dislodge the rat from his knuckles finally succeeding when the rat flew across the compartment and hit the window. The trio quickly fled the compartment, perhaps thinking there were more rats hidden among the sweets or hearing the hurried footsteps coming up the corridor toward us. Just seconds after they were gone, Hermione had come bustling into the compartment once more, looking around at all of us with wide eyes.

"What's going on in here? Was there a fight?" she asked, taking in the compartment, which now had sweets scattered all about the floor and Ron picking up his rat from the floor by his long, skinny pink tail.

"I think they knocked him out," Ron told Harry and I as he lay Scabbers in his palm and lifted his hand to get a better look at the rat, only to snort in disgust. "Oh, no, geeze, he's just fallen back to sleep."

The rat had, indeed, fallen right back to sleep.

"The two of you've met Malfoy before?"

Harry nodded and helped me explain about how we'd met him in Diagon Alley when we'd gone to get our school supplies.

"I've heard of the Malfoys before...." Ron muttered darkly, shaking his head slowly. "They were one of the first wizarding families to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Told everyone that asked that they'd been bewitched to follow him, but my dad doesn't believe them. He says Mr. Malfoy wouldn't need any kind of excuse to join the Dark side." He finally turned his attention to Hermione as I picked up the sweets and returned them to the seat, making a space for Scabbers as Ron asked Hermione what she wanted.

"I think the three of you should probably change into your robes, I' ve just been talking to the conductor and he says we're almost at Hogsmeade. None of you have been fighting, have you? If you were, then you'll be getting into trouble before we're even there!"

"Scabbers was the one that was fighting, not us," Ron snapped back, scowling deeply at her and narrowing his eyes. "Besides, what are you, our mum? If not, then could you leave while we get changed?"

"All right and in answer to your question, no, I am not any of your mothers, I just came in to see what all the commotion was about. Besides, there are a lot of people out in the corridor acting childishly, racing up and down the corridors like they're on a playground," Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed indignantly. "Oh and, erm, Ron, you have some dirt on your nose." she indicated a spot on her nose to show Ron where it was before she left, Ron glaring heatedly after her as she did. I watched her go for a moment, humming thoughtfully before turning my attention to the darkening window with Harry, watching the growing shape of the mountains and forests resting under a velvet blue sky, small sparkling stars already beginning to appear, winking down at us from the abyss. The train's momentum was, indeed, beginning to decrease, the train floor and lanterns overhead jarring with the sharp movements of the train wheels slowing under us.

The three of us got up together and pulled our long black robes out of our trunks, pulling them on over our regular Muggle clothes after taking off our jackets, which we put in our trunks instead before closing and fastening them once more. My and Harry's robes fit us perfectly, while Ron's seemed a tad too small for him, especially as his sneakers peeked out at us from under the hem.

I looked up when a voice echoed out through the train, looking around for a speaker that the conductor could be using, yet finding none as we were informed we would be reaching our destination within five minutes. We were also told to leave our luggage as is, as it would be transferred up to the school separately.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, gripping the side of my robes nervously as I looked around at Harry and Ron, both of them looking just as anxious and nervous as I was feeling at that moment; Harry looked as though his stomach was doing flips, while Ron had paled under his freckles. Dividing up the remainder of our sweets, we crammed them into our pockets, Harry took my hand, and we joined the jostling crowd making it's way through the corridor, while the train continued to slow, coming to a gradual stop with a low screech and then a hiss. Harry, Ron, and I were pushed toward the doors and out onto a tiny, dark platform, the cold night air stinging our exposed skin as we tried to figure out where we had to go. I shivered at the whispered wind that blew through the crowd, which seemed to find it's way into every opening of my clothes to chill me further, shuffling closer to Harry in order to find warmth. A light at one end of the platform suddenly caught my attention, making me look up as it bobbed closer, watching the light swaying above the heads of the other students, soon followed by a familiar voice calling for first year students. As it got closer, the lantern cast a light on the figure's face and my heart lightened at seeing Hagrid's big hairy face, smiling brightly down at Harry and I from over the sea of heads.

"You two all right there, Harry, Cheyenne?" he asked. The two of us nodded together, smiling brightly back up at him, glad to see him. "Good, now firs' years, c'mon and follow me. Have we got everyone? Follow me firs' years!"

Harry, Ron, and I followed the other first years after Hagrid, taking the steps down off the platform and onto a slippery patch of ground that lead to a steep, narrow path. Darkness surrounded us, indicating thick patches of trees grew on either side of this narrow path. Only the sound of rocks and dirt being disturbed accompanied us as we followed Hagrid, watching the light from his lantern bob ahead of us, the movement of our robes silenced by the small breathes of wind that swept over our group, bringing with it the scent of forest and water. Neville, the young man who kept losing his toad, trekked after Harry, Ron, and I with Hermione, with Neville sniffing once and twice.

"All of yeh'll be able ter get yer firs' look at Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid said, talking to us over his shoulder. "Once we get around this bend, here."

We rounded the corner as Hagrid spoke, stepping off the narrow path onto a strip of land leading down to the edge of a great black lake. A few students around us gasped or gave a noise of exclamation at the sight of the vast castle perched atop the high mountain across from us, it's windows glowing brightly against the dark sky, which failed to obscure the sight of the many turrets and towers that were built from the top of the castle.

"C'mon everyone, get inta the boats. No morn' four or five to one!" Hagrid called, gesturing to the fleet of little boats bobbing in the water at the shores' edge. Harry, Ron, and I got into a boat with Neville and Hermione, pausing to watch the other students climb into their own before we turned our attention to Hagrid, who had one all to himself. "Is everyone settled? All right, FORWARD!"

He tapped the edge of his boat, which began to float away from the shore, leading the rest of the fleet across the glass like water. None of us spoke, just watched the towering castle loom slowly closer and closer as our boats carried us toward it's resting place upon the cliffs.

"Heads down!" Hagrid called out to us as the first boats reached the cliff edge. I ducked my head, peering up through my bangs at the curtain of ivy we passed under, feeling it tickle the top of my head as we sailed through the hidden opening it hid. Darkness was our only company now as we traveled through a long tunnel, one which seemed to be carrying us under the cliffs to a hidden underground harbor, where our boats docked. We all clambered back onto dry land and followed Hagrid over the rocks and pebbles.

"Oi, you there, boy! Is this your toad in here?" Hagrid called as he checked the boats to make sure none of us had left anything behind.

"Trevor!" Neville cried in relief as he hurried forward to take the toad from Hagrid, who handed it over with a small chuckle. After, he checked the rest of the boats, made sure everyone had all their things, then he led the way up the steep passageway leading us out of the harbor until we stepped once more into the cool night hair, the moisture from the grass under our feet wetting our shoes as we stopped in the great shadow of the castle.

Another short walk up a flight of stone steps brought us to a vast, oak front door, where we stopped again, crowding around it to wait.

"Is everyone here? Still got yer toad?" Hagrid asked, looking around to make sure he still had everyone before he turned his attention to the door and raised one of his large fists to knock three times on the castle door.


	7. The Sorting

Hagrid's knock on the heavy wooden doors was answered immiedately as they swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired witch within, apparently awaiting our arrival. She was dressed in long, flowing, emerald-green robes with a pointed witch's hat atop her head. I looked up at her stern features, another feeling of de-ja-vu passing through me as her eyes swept the group from behind her square-rimmed glasses, but I decided not to say anything, having the distinct feeling that crossing this woman would not be the best course of action, now or ever.

"Here are the firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid told her brightly, nodding to his colleague.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take over from here." she told him as she pulled the doors open further so we could all walk through into the great entrance hall, which I had the distinct feeling would be able to house the Dursleys home with no trouble. Like Gringotts, the only source of light came from the flaming torches resting in brackets attached to the stone walls, although they were too low to allow proper light to reach the high ceilings above, leaving them in shadows that made it hard to find out what was above. Across the hall from us was a magnificent marble staircase that evidentally lead to the upper floors, where the classrooms and dormitories were probably located.

Professor McGonagall led us across the flagged stone floor, past a large doorway on our right, where we could hear thousands of voices conversing, drifting through the crack in the tall wooden doors. The rest of the school was probably inside, waiting for the moment when us first years would step through and join them. But, for now, we were being ushered into a small, empty chamber just off the hall by our new teacher, where we had to stand a great deal closer togehter than how we normally would have, a few people casting nervous glances around themselves.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said formally, looking around at all of us from where she stood in the chamber doorway. "Now, before any of you can take your seats in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast, all of you will need to be sorted into your houses. The Sorting at the beginning of each new school year is a very important ceremony and tradition, as the house you will be sorted into will become something of a family to you here while you attend Hogwarts. You will attend classes with your house, sleep in the house dormitories, and otherwise spend time within your own house common rooms.

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin are the four house we have here at Hogwarts, each with their own noble history and each with it's own number of outstanding witches and wizards they have produced. While you are here, any triumphs and accomplishments you achieve here will earn your house points, which will then be taken away if you attempt to break any rules. These points will be tallied up at the end of the year and earn the house with the most points the house cup, which is a great honor. I hope each and every one of you become a great credit to whichever house you are placed in.

"Your Sorting Ceremony will begin in a few minutes and will take place in front of the rest of the school, so I highly suggest all of you ready yourselves as much as you're able while you are waiting."

She swept her eyes over the group again, taking in the way Neville had fastened his cloak under his left ear and the smudge left on Ron's nose. I looked up at Harry as he tried to flatten his hair, reaching up to help him try to tame the stubborn strands of hair that often liked to stick out at the back of his head.

"Once we are all ready, I shall return, so while I am gone, I would like all of you to wait quietly," Professor McGonagall told us with a nod before she left us alone. Harry stopped trying to fix his hair and gulped while I continued messing with it, turning his head to look at Ron, who was standing on his other side.

"Do you know how we're supposed to be sorted into our houses?" he asked nervously.

"From what I've heard from Fred, we're supposed to do some kind of test..." he admitted nervously, gulping thickly himself before he waved a hand, laughing halfheartedly, "But, you know, he was probably just joking, he and George usually are."

I could feel my stomach twisting into a giant knot now at the prospect; a-a test?! A TEST?! On the first day of school? They couldn't honestly be serious about that, what if none of us here knew magic at all? And even if we did, what would they expect us to do exactly, some cheesy little magic trick like those fake magicians did for little kids parties? But we had to use real magic instead of the fake stuff those performers used? I think I was going to be sick....Taking a deep breath to try and calm myself down, I looked around at my new classmates, seeing many of them were looking just as terrified as I felt. None of them spoke, but I could see Hermione Granger murmuring quickly to herself, what, I didn't know, but she was saying something, possibly to try and comfort herself before our ceremony. I finally turned my attention back to the door, shaking heavily and crossing my arms, hugging myself tightly, waiting for the moment when Professor McGonagall would return and lead us to our doom.

Several loud screams suddenly rent the air behind me, making me jump almost clear out of my skin and hug Harry tightly, whirling my head in that direction to see what was going on. The arm that had wound around my waist when I'd hugged Harry tightened as he turned, too.

"Wh-wha -?!"

Astonished gasps escaped us all now, as from the back wall of the chamber, twenty ghosts had appeared, walking straight through the stones above us, each pearly-white and slightly transparent. They floated above our heads, gliding effortlessly through the air as they talked to one another, well, more arguing. One ghost, a fat little monk, was talking to one of his comrades, "I say we forgive and forget, I'm sure if we give him another chance -"

"Friar, we have given Peeves all the chances he deserves, if we continue to let him run rampent, then he will continue to give us a bad name and he's not even really a ghost, furthermore - I do say, what are you all doing here?"

The ghost wearing a ruff and tights had noticed us first years, not receiving an answer straight away as everyone just stared up at him with wide eyes.

"First years!" The Fat Friar said with a broad smile, "About to be Sorted into your houses, yes?"

A few people could only manage weak nods.

"Well then, I hope I see some of you in Hufflepuff!" The Friar said with the same beaming smile. "My old house, it was."

"Come on, move along," a sharp voice said from the doorway, drawing our attention to Professor McGonagall, who had returned to get us. "The Sorting's about to begin." she told us, watching as the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"All right everyone, get in a line," Professor McGonagall said, returning her attention to us first years. "and come follow me."

All of us shuffled together to get into a line, my legs shaking so badly I always felt as though they would give out beneath me at any second as I got into line between Harry and Ron, switching to just holding Harry's hand behind his back. Taking a deep breath, I followed him out f the chamber and across the hall to the tall double doors that led into the Great Hall, almost stopping in my tracks at the sight before us.

Nothing had ever looked as wonderful as this hall did, lit as it was by thousands of candles floating in midair over four long tables packed with the rest of the students. Glittering golden plates, goblets, and serving platters were laid on each of these tables, currently empty, possibly waiting to be filled with the food the kitchen staff would have made for tonight. Another long table for the teachers was set up at the top of the hall, where they faced the other four tables, watching the students. Professor McGonagall led us between two of the house tables toward the staff table, where we were placed in a line facing our older schoolmates, the teachers at our backs. Hundres of faces turned to stare up at us, turned pale in the flickering candlelight. There were flashes of misty silver among the students, the ghosts moving about as they tried to find a place to sit and wait for the Sorting. I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, not liking all the eyes peering at me, moving closer to Hary, who squeezed my hand reassuringly, rubbing my hand with his thumb as he did. I smiled at him from the corner of my mouth, grateful and happy having him next to me like he had always been, squeezing his hand softly in return as a silent way of thanking him as I lifted my head slowly, looking out over the hall again, avoiding the other students gazes before I turned my eyes upward to look at the vast ceiling, wondering for a moment if what I'd read in _Hogwarts, A History_ , had been true, about it being enchanted to look like the nighttime sky outside. A velvet black blanket dotted with twinkling stars greeted my vision. Wow, that was amazing....could there really be a ceiling up there or was the hall built without one so we could always have a view of the nighttime sky?

Something being put down on the stones in front of us made me look around again, to where Professor McGonagall had set down a four-legged stool, which she was now setting a pointed wizard's hat atop of. Patches decorated the dirty, frayed, black fabric, giving me the distinct impression that Aunt Petunia would not let it within a hundred yards of the house.

Did we have to perform that old pull a rabbit out of the hat trick in order to be sorted into our different houses? Everyone else in the hall seemed to be focusing intently on the hat, as though waiting for it to do something, so, after exchanging a quizzical look, Harry and I turned to the hat as well, waiting. Complete silence filled the hall then, for just a few seconds, before the hat twitched and a rip appeared near the brim, almost like a mouth and the hat began to sing:

_Oh, I may look so pretty,_

_But please don't judge my looks,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A hat that's smarter than me._

_Keep those bowlers black,_

_Those top hats sleek and tall,_

_As I'm the one and only Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There isn't a single thing in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So put me on and I'll tell you_

_Where you're bound to be._

_You might be a Gryffindor,_

_The bravest of the lot,_

_With their daring, nerve, and chivalry,_

_Which set Gryffindors apart;_

_Or you could be a Hufflepuff,_

_The most just and loyal of the lot,_

_With their patience and their fearlessly to toil;_

_But what about wise Ravenclaw,_

_Where they have such ready minds,_

_And a thirst for wit and knowledge_

_That will find them their own kind;_

_Or maybe you're a Slytherin,_

_Where real friends can be found,_

_Where cunning folks will use all means_

_To achieve any goal._

_So try me on, don't be afraid!_

_I promise I won't get in a flap!_

_You're safe with me, I promise you,_

_As I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Everyone applauded as the hat finished singing. It bowed to each of the four tables once before returning to its motionless state.

"So all we'll have to do is try on that hat?" Ron whispered from my right. "Oh, I'm going to kill Fred, he told me we were going to have to wrestle a troll!"

I gave a shaky sigh of relief, almost sagging to my knees in relief, with only Harry's hand keeping me upright. It tightened around my hand, pulling me closer so I could lean against his shoulder. I couldn't even begin to explain just how relieved I was that we wouldn't have to make fools of ourselves up in front of the rest of the school by attempting to perform magic. We just had to try on a hat, just a little hat...in...in front of the entire school. In front of all of our peers and fellow students. Oh god, I felt sick all over again....I tried to pull my brain together again, trying to pick out something, anything, any strength of mine that could match any of the qualities each of the four houses was looking for. But I couldn't think straight, I couldn't find a single trait that would be the best use for any of the houses. The only house I could think of that I would fit into would be the one where brainless lumps who felt seconds away from vomiting all over the place!

Professor McGonagall stepped up in front of us all, holding a long roll of parchment.

"I have all of your names here on this parchment and when I calls yours, I would like you to step up, put the hat on and take a seat for your sorting," she told us all, nodding once before she turned her attention to the list of names. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with a pink tainted face with her blond hair done up in pigtails stumbled out of line, pulled the hat on, the rim falling down over her eyes, and took a seat on the stool. There was a moment's pause as the hat considered Hannah before the rim near the brim opened wide -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted aloud.

The table on the inner right exploded into cheers and applause as Hannah joined the other Hufflepuffs. The ghost of the Fat Friar gave her a merry little wave.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat repeated, at which Susan scurried off to join Hannah at their new house table.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The inner left table exploded into cheers and applause this time; several Ravenclaws even got to their feet to shake Terry's hand.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" joined Ravenclaw as well, while 'Brown, Lavender' was the first Gryffindor. The outer left table exploded into cheers as she joined them and among the students we could see Ron's older twin brothers catcalling.

The first to be sorted into Slytherin was 'Bulstrode, Millicent,' who joined the outer right table. For one reason or another, looking at the group of Slytherins, the lot of them seemed to look a bit...unpleasant. Not very friendly or sociable at all....I felt my stomach twist into a giant knot, worsening my neuasea. Memories from school crossed my mind, especially those from gym class, when Harry and I had to participate in sports, when we got to choose our own teams. Both of us were always chosen last, not because we weren't good at sports, but because, well...Dudley and his gang did threaten anyone that tried to associate with either of us.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

With each person that stepped up to be sorted, the hat's decision seemed to take a variation of time. With some students, as soon as the hat was placed on their heads, he shouted out their new house, yet with others, it took a few minutes to decide. It took a whole minute for the hat to decide to sort 'Finnigan, Seamus,' into Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione practically ran for the stool and jammed the hat down on top of her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted after a few short seconds. Ron groaned in exasperation beside me.

Harry's hand suddenly tightened around mine, shaking even worse than it had been before. I looked at him slowly, frowning, wondering what was going through his mind at this very second. He looked slowly at me, looking terrified at the thought that had suddenly struck him.

"Chey....wh-what if....what if I'm not able to be sorted....what if the hat can't place me in any of he houses....? What if I have to go back to the Dursleys....?" he whispered, causing my heart to drop almost immediately into my stomach as my brain wrapped around this information. Then, another thought struck me, a thought adjacent to the one Harry had just been having. What if....what if one of us got in, but the other did not and we had to be separated? Could I leave Harry alone....could I go on without my best friend, here or at the Dursleys? I could, if I was the one that had to return to the Muggle world, to face going to school by myself, if it meant that Harry was safe, sound, and happy. So long as those three things held true for my best friend, then I would be glad, I would be happy. And besides, we would still be able to contact one another through the wizard mail, sending letters back and forth with Elon and Hedwig, at least once a week, to keep each other updated on what we were up to during the time we were apart.

Neville Longbottom stepped up when he was called, tripping himself on his robes as he did so, causing a few of the other students to laugh. When he finally got to the stool and pulled the hat down on top of his head, it took a few minutes for the hat to decide where he would belong before it declared him a Gryffindor as well. Neville scurried off for the Gryffindor table with the hat still on his head, jogged back, set the hat back on the stool while those who had laughed before were joined by a few others, then scurried off again so 'MacDougal, Morag,' could be Sorted.

When his name was called, Draco Malfoy swaggered confidentally up to the stool, where he was almost immediately pronounced a Slytherin. With a smirk, he returned the hat to the stool and swaggered off to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle at their house table, leaving only a few people to be Sorted now, including Harry and I.

"Potter, Harry!"

Low whispers erupted throughout the hall as Harry's name was announced and I squeezed his hand reassuringly before releasing it so he could step forward to try on the hat. My body burned as several eyes darted in my direction, between Harry and I as the others whispered about us.

"Did she just say Potter? _The_ Potter?!"

"Harry Potter? Hey, is that girl with him Cheyenne Power?"

I could hear the whispers floating about as the other students leaned in close, continuing to shoot us glances, murmuring quickly to one another, a few even burning into my forehead, possibly looking for my scar. Heat quickly rose in my cheeks and I reached for my right ear, nervously running my fingers through the hair that I had pushed behind it to let it fall loosely in front of my face, my bangs shielding my forehead from view. The whispers intensified, tickling my ears, ringing in my head as the students tried to figure out if it really was Harry and I. I did my best to ignore all of them, instead turning my attention on where Harry was now sitting on the stool, the Sorting Hat now fit snuggly on his head, the brim falling down past his eyes to shield them from view. We waited.

I gulped thickly as I watched Harry and the hat, waiting, hoping that he would find the right house for Harry, that he would be able to fit in here better than he had at our old school. My hands clapsed tightly together in front of my as my teeth dug into my bottom lip, my eyes still trained on the two, praying quietly. Please....please let him be in one of the houses, please....please let him be accepted here. Please....

At some point or another, the whispering seemed to have stopped, with silence now taking it's place; it felt as though everyone was holding their breaths, waiting just as intently as I was to find out which house Harry would be placed into, the air thick with anticipation for which houe would receive him.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat finally shouted, breaking the silence and cutting through the thick cloud that was nearly suffocating us now. The Gryffindor table burst into the loudest round of cheers and applause that we had heard yet as Harry got to his feet and set the hat back on the stool before he staggered toward his new house, looking more than relieved, possibly at the thought that he wouldn't have to return to the Dursleys. I let out my breath slowly, feeling a brief moment of dizziness pass over me as I did so, relief that Harry had gotten in passing through me. Now he could be where he was accepted, where he could make friends without the fear of someone chasing them away by threatening to bully them. I could only hope that I was placed into a house here, too....

"Power, Cheyenne!"

I tensed as my name was called before I took a deep breath and stepped forward for my own Sorting. Whispers erupted through the hall once more, just like they had Harry, as hundreds of eyes bore into me, watching my every move as I approached the stool and reached for the hat.

"Cheyenne Power?! The P-Team at Hogwarts!"

"I wonder what house she'll be in?"

I gulped thickly as I took my seat and pulled the hat down, feeling it fall down over my eyes, showing darkness. I folded my hands in my lap to wait, gulping, wondeing what exactly I was waiting for.

"Oh, another tough egg to crack," the soft voice in my ear nearly made me jump out of my skin again, but I forced myself to remain still, my heart thumping against my ribs, causing the blood to roar in my ears, but I forced my heart to slow, to return to normal by taking deep, even breathes, focusing on the voice that had spoken to me. "Hm, not as tough as Potter was, mind you, but still, a tough egg to crack. Timid, couragous, very smart. Full of talent, a great deal of talent, ambition to be all that you can be, to spread your wings, show others who you really are without being suppressed. Now, where could I put you, hm?"

I gulped thickly once more, clenching my hands in my lap, shaking, quietly begging the Sorting Hat not to put me in Slytherin, in any house but Slytherin.

"You do not wish to be in Slytherin, either?" the small voice asked, sounding intrigued for some reason, making me wonderng what he meant by _either?_ "Young Mister Potter didn't want to be placed in Slytherin House, either, even though it could very well help the two of you achieve your maximum potential, there's no doubt about that. No? Hm, well then, if you're sure, I think you'll best be suited in....GRYFFINDOR!"

Relief crashed over me like a great wave as my muscles relaxed, the breath trapped in my lungs escaping me on a shaky exhale. Applause filled the hall again, mostly from the Gryffindor table, which was just as loud and rambuncious as it had been when Harry had been Sorted into it. I got up from the stool and set the hat down again before I walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table, my legs shaking, arms heavy as though I'd just run ten miles. I was able to be Sorted and into the same house as Harry, he and I wouldn't have to be separated. We could stay together! Harry stood up to meet me and give me a tight hug, which I returned whole-heartedly, feeling a smile creeping on my lips as he helped me sit down on the bench. Percy the Prefect actually got up to shake my hand as his brothers shouted about getting Harry and I both in their house. Once I was seated and Harry and I had released each other, I trned to greet my fellow housemates, surprised when I saw we were sitting opposite the ghost in the ruff we'd seen in the chamber earlier. He smiled kindly at us, bowing his head respectfully and I inclined my head as well. Harry tapped my shoulder and pointed toward the staff table, making me turn my head curiously.

From this vantage point, we had a better view of the High Table than when we were standing in front of it, waiting to be Sorted. Hagrid sat at the end closest to the Gryffindor Table and, upon catching our eye, he gave us a thumbs-up and a smile, which we returned happily. We recognized another figure sitting at the very center of the table, seated in a large golden chair, his silver hair shining like stars in the candlelight: Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't hard to recognize him from the card we'd gotten of him from the Chocolate Frogs we'd eaten on the train. Professor Quirrell was just a few seats to his right, twitching every now and again just as he had done in the Leaky Cauldron, his head done up in a large purple turban.

Only four people were left to be Sorted. 'Thomas, Dean', a dark young man who had a bit more height than Ron, joined Harry and I at the Gryffindor table not too shortly after, while 'Turpin, Lisa' was made a Ravenclaw, just leaving Ron now. He had turned a very pale shade of green now, causing the freckles on his cheeks to stand out even more so than usual. I took Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly as he squeezed mine, crossing the fingers on our free hands under the table as we waited. It only took a few seconds for the hat to decide what to do with Ron before he, too, was declared a Gryffindor. Harry and I relaxed, exhaling happily as we released each other to clap our hands along with the rest of our house as Ron collapsed onto the bench beside me.

"Excellent, Ron, well done," His older brother, Percy, said pompousy across from us as 'Zabini, Blaise' was Sorted last into Slytherin. With that, Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took the Sorting Hat out of the hall.

I looked around at the empty plates, platters, and goblets, wondering how our feast would arrive, my stomach rumbling lowly as I realized just how long ago we had eaten those sweets on the train. Those had been the only things either Harry or I had eaten all day and now I was ready for some real food.

The flow of conversation dimming caught my attention, making me look up curiously; Albus Dumbledore was climbing to his feet now, standing before all of us with a wide, beaming smile, his arms spread wide before him, looking as though nothing made him happier than the sight of all of us here.

"Welcome everyone," he said in a smooth, calming voice. "Welcome to a brand new year at Hogwarts! Now, before we begin our usual start-of-term feast, I have a few words I would like to share with all of you. And those words are: Nitwit! Blubber! oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He inclined his head and took his seat once more as everyone clapped and cheered for him. I raised my eyebrows quizzically, exchanging a look with Harry before I put a hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle.

"Erm, Percy, i-is Professor...Professor Dumbledore a little....mad?" I asked around my giggles, turning to him now.

"Dumbledore mad?" Percy answered, puffing out his chest importantly. "Why, the man's a genius! He's the best wizard in the whole world! Well....yes I suppose he is a bit mad, but not completely. Anyway, potatoes, Harry, Cheyenne?"

My mouth dropped at the sight of the food that had suddenly seemed to appear on the dishes in front of us, almost overflowing onto the table. Neither Harry nor I had seen so many of our favorite dishes all on one table like this before: there was roast beef, chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausage, steak and bacon, boiled and roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and even peppermint humbugs.

Now, when we were living with the Dursleys, Harry and I weren't exactly starved but, well...we'd never really gotten the chance to eat as much as we would have liked. No matter if he had gotten sick or he couldn't eat, Dudley had always taken everything and anything either of us had really wanted. Harry and I each piled our plates with everything we could reach, aside from the peppermints and began to eat, sighing in unison as the foods delicious juices flooded over our tongues.

"That does look very good," the ghost wearing the ruff sighed sadly across from us, watching as Harry and I cut off portions of our steaks. We paused to look at him, my head cocking just slightly.

"You mean, you can't -?"

"I haven't been able to eat since I died nearly four hundred years ago," the ghost replied with a frown. "I really don't need to anymore, but I do miss it....but, enough sadness, today is meant to be a good day, happy, we have new students and should be celebrating! I haven't properly introduced myself yet, have I? I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"Hey, I've heard of you before!" Ron interrupted, looking up at the ghost with wide eyes, "My older brothers have told me all about you, you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I preferred to be called by my proper name, thank you," the ghost replied gruffly, frowning deeply as Seamus Finnigan jumped into the conversation next.

"How can someone be nearly Headless?" he asked, blinking, confused.

Sir Nicholas huffed irritably, looking around at everyone in a way that clearly said he wasn't pleased with how the conversation was going.

"This is how," he responded in a irritated tone, seizing his left ear and giving it a hard tug. His entire head swung sideways off his neck to rest on his shoulder, just a thin slice of skin holding it in place, making it obvious he had been under an executioners axe, but the executioner had failed to fully sever the ghost's head from his body. All of us stared at him, stunned, our eyes widening, bits of food stuck on our forks plopping back onto our plates without our notice. Looking satisfied by this, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck and coughed before speaking again, "So, new Gryffindors, I do hope you all will help in the race to win the house championship this year. It's been a long time since we've won, the longest known to Hogwarts. Slytherin has won the cup six years running and it's made the Bloody Baron quite unbearable....he's the ghost for Slytherin house." he inclined his head toward the Slytherin table, Harry and I following his gaze cuiously, looking over our shoulders quickly.

Sitting beside Draco Malfoy, who looked less than enthuised by the seating arrangements, was a gaunt faced ghost with blank eyes, wearing robes stained in silver blood.

"Where'd all that blood come from?" Seamus asked Nearly Headless Nick as we returned our attention to him, his eyes wide with curiousity.

"I didn't think it polite to ask," he replied in a delicate manner.

It wasn't long before dinner finished, people beginning to sit back contently as they finished their meals, sighing happily with their stomachs full. The remains of the food before us faded then, leaving the plates and platters as clean as they had been before the feast had started and within seconds they were filled with desserts. Every flavor of ice cream was stocked in blocks along the table, alongside apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs, jam doughnuts, trifles, strawberries, Jello-O, pudding -

I helped myself to a small serving of pudding and Jello-O, while the rest of our new housemates turned the conversation toward their families.

"I'm half and half," Seamus said proudly with a smile. "Mum's a witch who married a Muggle; didn't tell dad about her magic until after they were married, gave him a right nasty shock."

Everyone laughed at that before Ron asked Neville about his family. The round-faced boy looked up, pink tinting his cheeks, "Well, I've been brought up by my gran and she's an older witch. My whole family thought I would turn out to be a Muggle, though. Great Uncle Algie kept trying to force some magic outta me, trying to catch me off guard, almost drowned me when he pushed me off the end of the Blackpool pier. I didn't really show any kinda magical abilities until I was about eight, when Great Uncle Algie came over for dinner and hung me out an upstairs window by the ankles. He ended up accidentally letting go of me when Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue, but didn't get hurt, just bounced through the garden into the road. They were all so happy, Gran was even cryin', and they were all so surprised when I got accepted here, we all though I wouldn't have enough magic in me. Great Uncle Algie bought me Trevor as a gift for doing it."

I tuned out of the conversation then, instead turning to find out what Hermione and Percy were talking so intently about. It turned out they were talking about our lessons, which Hermione said she hoped would start soon so that we could start learning all we could. Percy reassured her lessons would be starting right away and told her in each class we would be starting with small, simple magic.

A yawn split my lips then and I blinked, stretching my arms over my head, starting to feel the affects of the long day and the big meal we'd just finished taking effect on me. I was warm and full for the first time, licking my lips to rid them of the remains of my meal as my eyelids drooped. What I wouldn't give to just crawl into a nice warm bed about now, curl up and drift off into the bliss of unconsciousness about now....

Doing my best to shake off the drowsiness that had descended over me, I turned my head to look up at the High Table again to get a second view of our teachers. My eyes travelled over Hagrid, who was drinking deeply from his goblet, while Professor McGonagall was holding a conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell was holding his own conversation with another of his colleagues, a tall, sallow-skinned man with greasy black hair and a crooked nose. I cocked my head curiously, feeling the drowiness feeling that had descended over me fading, just a little, as I watched this teacher. Then, something strange happened. As I continued staring at this man, he suddenly looked up, peering past Quirrell's turban, his dark eyes meeting mine, just for a split second. Something sharp and hot shot through my forehead then, blazing across my scar, making me jump and slap a hand, almost instinctively, over it.

"Ow!" I yelped at the same second as Harry as there was the sound of skin meeting skin for the second time.

"Cheyenne, Harry, what's wrong?" Percy asked, looking round with frowwed brows.

"I-i't's....it's nothing...." we managed to get out together, looking at one another with identical frowns on our lips. What in the world had that been about? Why in the world had our scars blazed like that just by us making eye contact with our teacher, but both of us making eye contact? What had the brief flash of pain meant, anyway? And why had we both felt it, not just one of us? It was true that Harry and I had scars identical to one anothers and we had both achieved them by the same means, but that was were the similarities ended. How could we both possibly have felt something like that? And what was with that teacher anyway? The look he had just given the both of us had quite clearly had a tone of dislike that he was didn't look to care to hide.

"Erm, Percy," Harry said, turning his attention to the older boy, drawing my attention as well, "Who's the teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"Hm? Oh, you and Cheyenne already know Quirrell, huh? It's no wonder he's looking so nervous, he's talking with Professor Snape, he's the head of Slytherin house and the Potions' teacher, but he's always wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, been after it for years. He's quite educated in the Dark Arts, Snape."

I frowned slightly at that, turning my head to look up at our Potions' teacher again, althouh he didn't met my gaze a second table, mine or Harry's. So, he liked that Dark Arts, did he? That was....interesting, to say the least. But that didn't quite explain the look of dislike in Snape's gaze when he's made eyecontact with us. We hadn't seen him before today, so we couldn't possibly have done something to make him hate us...could we've?

I pondered his question silently as I finished my dessert with everyone else, causing it all to disappear just as dinner did and once the plates and platters were clean once more, Professor Dumbledore climbed to his feet, causing everyone to fall silent as we all turned to face him.

"Well, now that we all have been properly fed and watered, I have a few more words to share with you all, some start-of-term notices I would like you all to hear: First years are informed that the forest on the school grounds is out of bounds to any and all pupils, a rule I'm sure a few older students are needed to be reminded of."

Twinlking blue eyes settled on the Weasley twins, amusement sparkling in their depths as he continued.

"Mr. Filch has also reminded me to tell all of you that magic is not to be used in the corridors in between classes. Try-outs for the House Quidditch teams will be held during the second week of term and anyone interested should speak with Madam Hooch. And finally, I caution all of you to maintain a safe distance from the third-floor corridor this year, if any of you wish to avoid dying a very painful death."

A forboding shiver ran the length of my spine at the warning as Harry, along with a few others scattered in the crowds around us, gave small laughs, but I could tell from the grave edge in Dumbledore's bright blue eyes that this was not a joke. This warning would most definately need to be heeded.

"Dumbledore can't really be serious, can he?" Harry asked, leaning across the table to murmur to Percy, who was looking confused at this announcement, his lips turned down into a deep frown as he watched Dumbledore.

"It must be, otherwise he wouldn't have given us such a warning, but....it is rather odd....usually if he warns us about anything he gives an explaination as to why that rule is in place. We can't go into the forest because it's filled with dangerous beasts, everyone knows. And even if he didn't tell the whole school, I would've though he'd at least warn us prefects...."

"Now, before we all ajern to bed, I would like us all to join together to sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried with a bright, beaming smile around at all of us. I raised my eyebrows curiously, looking around at the other teachers to see if this was normal, seeing some of them seemed to be fighting to keep the smiles on their faces.

With a flick of his wand, a long golden ribbon appeared high above us, sprouting from the very tip, where it began to twist itself, quite snakelike, into the lyrics of the song.

"Pick your favorite tune if you wish," Dumbledore told us with the same bright smile, "and here we go!" With that, the whole school began to sing together, each student at their own pace as they chose a different melody to sing to:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Won't you teach us something, please?_

_Don't matter how old we are,_

_If we're wrinkled and bald,_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads are quite empty_

_And could quite do with some filling,_

_With all of the interesting things_

_You could possibly show._

_Our heads are bare and full of air,_

_Filled with dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So won't you teach us those wothy things_

_We might have forgot?_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn till we all bust._

Everyone finished singing at different times, the hall slowly falling silent as one by one we came to the end of the song. Finally, it was only Fred and George Weasley left singing, following a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted them through the last few lines with his wand and clapped the loudest out of us all when they had finished.

"Ah, music," he said with a happily sigh, dabbing at his eyes, "The only kind of magic beyond anything and everything we teach here! Now, off to bed, all of you."

I climbed off the bench with Harry, taking his hand as the rest of the school did the same, the crowds pressing in around us as they milled toward the double doors leading out into the corridor. Percy called us Gryffindor first years toward him and gathered us in our own little group before leading the way out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. I hid a yawn behind my hand, rubbing sleepily at my eyes, shuffling my feet as I followed my Housemates through the corridors, worn out from the long day of travel and the food that now filled my stomach. But I did my best to stay awake, wanting a good look at the castle around us, curious to know what exactly could be in a school meant for young witches and wizards like us. Soft whispers tickled my ears as we made our way down the corridors, seeming to come from the walls on either side of us and I lifted my drowsy eyes to the portraits that decorated the stones, surpised for a split second when I saw the people in the portraits moving, leaning in close to whisper to one another as they pointed to us before I remembered what Ron had told us on the train, about pictures in this world moving around like this. I inclined my head respectfully to a few of the portraits we passed as we continued on, following Percy through a few hidden doors hidden behind some sliding panels and hanging tapestires. We climbed numourous flights of stairs, a few of the other first years dragging their feet just as I was, exhausted from our long day and the meal we had all just had. Like both Harry and I, they all looked like they just wanted to get to a bed and pass out, a few even murmuring to himself, wondering how much further we had to go before we go there, including Harry, who shuffled closer to me, his face buried into my shoulder blade, mumbling about just wanting to go to sleep. I smiled softly, squeezing his hand empathetically, silently wondering when exactly we would reach our destination as well. I was just beginning to wonder how our house common room would look when we suddenly stopped in the middle of the corridor. I blinked in surprise and stretched up on my tip-toes to see what was going on, frowning slightly, wondering what was going on.

Floating in midair just about ten steps in front of us was a bundle of walking sticks, which began to throw themselves at Percy when he tried to take a step closer.

"This is our school poltergeist, Peeves, be careful of him, he's known for pulling pranks like this," he whispered to us first years before he raised his voice to address the poltergeist. "Peeves, show yourself!"

What sounded like air being let out of a balloon was the only reply, a loud, rude noise.

"I will get the Bloody Baron if I have to!"

A little man with wicked, dark eyes and a widely grinning mouth appeared floating in mid-air before us with a pop, holding the bundle of walking sticks in his crossed lap.

"Oooooh, what a treat!" he cackled evilly, his grin widening further until it looked as though he was trying to show us every one of his teeth, "Ickle Firsties! Great fun!"

He swooped down over all of us and I yanked Harry down to avoid him.

"Be off with you Peeves! This is being reported to the Baron, I mean it!" Percy snapped, glaring threateningly at the little ghost, who simply stuck his tongue out in reply and vanished, leaving the walking sticks he'd been holding to land on Neville's head. Down the corridor he zoomed, still cackling like a mad man, disturbing the coats of armor he passsed as he did.

"Like I said, he's a trickster, so you'll all best be leery of him," Percy warned us again as he began leading the way once more. "The only one he ever listens to is the Bloody Baron, won't even listen to any teachers or us prefects for that matter....ah, here we go."

We paused at the end of the corridor, in front of a tall portrait hung on the wall of a....fairly husky woman wearing a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked simply.

"Caput Draconis," Percy responded confidentally. She nodded her head in acceptance and swung forward, revealing a round hole hidden behind her frame. We all climbed through, helping those who needed the assistance, stepping into a warm, cozy, circular room filled wtih squashy armchairs, which could only be the Gryffindor common room. I looked around the room, taking in the colors, the cozy fireplace at one side, facing a large couch and short table with an armchair on either side, banners in the colors of the house decorating a few of the walls. There were only two other doors, which I knew possibly led to the dormitories.

Percy confirmed this by indicating us girls through the door on the right to our dormitory and the boys to the left for theirs. Harry looked sleepily at me and I gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hand gently in goodnight before we parted ways for the night and I followed the other girls through the door. We followed the sprial staircase to the very top of the tower, where we were finally able to find our dorm, another circular room with five four-poster beds hung with deep red, velvet curtains, each with one of us trunks placed by the footrest, awaiting our arrival. I approached the bed where my trunk was resting and opened it to retrieve my pajamas, Hermione Granger taking the bed off to my right. We began to talk and get to know one another better, finding we each had similar interests, which included a love for learning and a great interest in the many wonders this new world could offer us as we attended Hogwarts and learned all we could from our teachers.

Things seemed to be working out quite well here already, despite the rough start. It was already beginning to feel like home, especially as I found myself getting more and more comfortable talking with Hermione, feeling a bond already beginning to form with her. I hadn't had any girl friends before and the thought of having someone like that now was exciting. Yes, I would always have my close friendship with Harry, nothing would change that, but....sometimes it was nice having another girl to talk to about things I couldn't exactly talk to Harry about, girl problems, crushes, etc. It was nice having another friend who shared some of my interests as well, seeing as Harry didn't quite enjoy reading or lessons as much as I did. I finally felt....accepted, _normal_ , even though I knew to others this world, my world, wasn't exactly normal but that was their opinion. This was my normal. And I liked it.

"Oi, will you two give it a rest, we're trying to sleep." One of our other dormmates grumbled irrtably after a couple of hours of Hermione and I talking, opening one side of her curtains to look at us as she rubbed at her eyes. "If you're going to stay up late chit-chatting, then at least lower the volume." with that, she jerked the curtains closed again and we heard the bedsprings creak as she flopped back down on top of them. Hermione and I looked at one another and giggled as I checked my watch.

"We should probably get some sleep, we don't want to be tired for our first lessons tomorrow, right?" I said, returning the watch to my nightstand. Hermione smiled and nodded her head as a yawn split her lips and she climbed off my bed, stretching her arms over her head.

"Yes, we don't want to miss anything important tomorrow when our teachers during our first day. Maybe tomorrow you and I can talk more?" she suggested, undoing the blankets of her own bed and climbing underneath as I did the same. I nodded my head enthusiastically. "Of course. Maybe you could even eat breakfast with Harry, Ron, and I." I said, pulling one side of my curtains closed. She nodded her agreement and we bid each other goodnight. I snuffed out the last candle, set my glasses down on my nightstand, and closed the last curtain around my bed, settling back into my pillow with a content sigh.

At one point during the night, I began to have a very very strange dream, which included Harry. We were standing together, wtih Harry's head wrapped up in the strange purple turban Professor Quirrell had been wearing at the feast tonight. It seemed to be talking to us in a strangely cold, high-pitched voice, telling us we didn't belong in Gryffindor, that we needed to transfer to Slytherin straight away, that our destiny lay in Slytherin house. We both told it that we didn't want to be Slytherins, that we were happy being Gryffindors, at which point Harry complained about the turban becoming heavier. I tried to help him get off, attempting to get my fingers wedged under the folds, but Harry cried out as it tightened, preventing me from getting a proper hold. Suddenly, Malfoy appeared, laughing as we struggled with the turban, only to be replaced moments later with the greasy, hook-nosed Potions' teacher, Snape, whose laugh turned high, cold, just as the voice that had been speaking to us. Then, a burst of green greeted our vision, blinking us, causing me to jerk awake and bolt up, panting heavily. I blinked blurrly around at my surroundings, brushing my wrist over my sweat dampened forward as I collapsed back on the sheets and turned onto my side, hugging my pillow close to me. I was unconscious again in seconds, any recollection of the strange dream completely forgotten by the time I awoke again the next morning.


	8. The Potions' Master

"Look over there, over there!"

"Where?"

"They're next to the tall kid with red hair/the girl with bushy hair."

"The couple wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see either of their faces?"

"What about their scars?"

These were the normal whispers that followed Harry and I from the moment we left our dormitories the following morning. People that were lined up outside their classes waiting for their lessons were standing on their tiptoes at an attempt to get a look at the two of us or if they passed us in the hall they would double back and stare. I did my best to ignore them, trying to concentrate on finding my classes, which was easier when I had someone to help. Harry and Ron had a harder time, though...

Within the castle was a hundred and forty-two staircases, some wide, sweeping ones, others narrow and rickety, that led to various destinations, depending on the day or time; some even had trick stairs that we had to remember to jump. Along with the different staircases, there were many types of doors within the castle as well, with various means needed to open them, such as being asked politely or tickled in the right spot. There were even trick doors, which were often just walls pretending to be doors. Sometimes it proved difficult to remember one's way since the castle seemed to constantly be changing, but it made it easier when Hermione and I had our own little ways to remember which way to go and how to avoid any traps.

In Harry and Ron's case, however, they were finding it a bit more difficult to navigate the castle, even when they tried to ask for help, especially from the ghosts. They'd both been shocked at least once before our very first class when they'd been trying to get through a door that hadn't want to open and then again after lunch when they got lost on their way to Charms. Nearly Headless Nick was a big help, as he was always more than willing to point us new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was a whole other story, as he was more for making mischief than helping anyone, especially if they were late for their lessons. Both the boys showed up for one of our lessons with chalk dust in their hair, bites of ruined parchment in their robes and bruises on their arms and legs.

But even worse than the poltergeist was our caretaker, Argus Filch, who Harry and Ron had managed to wrong on their first morning, when he found them trying to force entry through a door that, unfortunately for them, turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. They two had come close to being tossed into the dungeons by the angry caretaker, but had mercifully been rescued by Professor Quirrell, who'd been passing.

Older students also warned us about Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, an old, scrawny, dust-colored feline with bulging lamp-like eyes similar to Filch's. She helped Filch patrol the corridors, often going off on her own, but whisking off straight to Filch if she saw someone break a rule. Within seconds of reporting to him, Filch would appear, wheezing, having used the secret passageways of the school, which he knew better than anyone....except, perhaps, the Weasley twins. All the students hated him and many wished dearly that they could give Mrs. Norris the kick she so rightly deserved.

The classes, meanwhile, were something else entirely. There was a lot more to magic than I'd previously though. We didn't simply have to wave our wnads and say a couple of funny words.

Every Wednesday at midnight we would be up at the top of the Astronomy tower studying the night skies through our telescopes, learning the names of the different stars and the movements of the plants. One of our classes, called Herbology, which we took three times a week, was taught in the greenhouses behind the castle, by a dumpy little witch named Professor Sprout, who taught us how to care for all these strange kinds of plants and fungi and what they could be used for.

The only class that wasn't all that....well, hands-on, was History of Magic, which was our only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been an older wizard teaching here when he'd fallen asleep in front of the fireplace in the staffroom. When he awoke the next morning to teach, he'd left his body behind, but his spirit remained to continue his lessons. Professor Binns droned on continuously while we all made notes on his lecture, making sure to write the correct dates and names down as we did.

Charms was another subject we studied, taught by a tiny little wizard by the name of Professor Flitwick, who had to stand on a pile of books just to see over the top of his desk. He took roll call at the beginning of our first class and ended up giving an excited squeal when he reached my and Harry's names.

Professor McGonagall was just as we'd expected, strict and clever, a woman you mostly certainly would not want to cross. During our first class with her she gave us all a stern talking-to as soon as we all sat down.

"Transfiguration is one of the more complex and dangerous kind of magic you all will be learning here at Hogwarts," she said. "There should be no messing about of any kind or you will be asked to leave and not return. That will be your only warning."

With that being said, she demonstrated a bit of magic by changing her desk into a pig than returning it to how it was, which was enough to impress all of us and get us excited to get started. However, we soon learned that it would be a long while before any of us would be able to change the furniture into animals. After we took a series of complicated notes, we were each given a match which we were to turn into a needle. Only Hermione and I were able to change our matches completely by the end of the lesson and Professor McGonagall showed the rest of the class proudly how they both had turned silver and rounded to a point before giving the two of us a rare smile.

The class that we all looked forward to, however, was our Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but we soo found out that Professor Quirrell's lessons were....erm....not really what we thought they might be. When we first entered his classroom, our noses were immeidately assulted by the strong smell of garlic, which the older students told us was to warn off a vampire he'd met in Romania he was afraid would return one day to get him. The turban he continually wore was a gift, he told us, he'd gotten from an African prince as gratitude for his work to dispel a troublesome zombie, but his story did not sound all that believable, especially when he refused to go into details about the battle and instead changed the subject when someone asked. The smell of garlic hung thick around that turban as well and Fred and George often commented that they thought Quirrell stuffed it with garlic so that he would always have protection.

It also didn't take long for Harry to realize that he was not that far behind everyone else, as many of our classmates had come from Muggle families as well who hadn't even known they'd been witches and wizards until they'd gotten their letters. Not even people who came from wizarding families like Ron had too big a headstart.

Friday came as a big day for Harry and Ron, as they managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without them getting lost once.

"So, what do we have today?" Harry asked me as he and Ron joined Hermione and I at the Gryffindor table.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron said. "I hear Professor Snape's the head of Slytherin house and he always favors them, so we'll be able to see if it's true or not today."

"Wish McGonagall favored us a little," Harry and I said together, knowing Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House which had done little in the way of stopping her from giving us a large pile of homework after our first lesson. Ron looked at Harry and I with a raised eyebrow and then shook his head.

"Blimey it's creepy how the two of you do that...." he said, taking a bite of his porridge. Harry and I looked at one another and shrugged before I passed him the platter of toast. It'd been a long time since we'd noticed when we said something together, we'd done it so often during our lives it just seemed natural somehow.

A loud whooshing and clattering sound overhead drew our attention to the rafters, where the usual morning owls were coming through to deliver the mail. It'd been a bit of a shock our first morning to see the hundreds of owls streaming into the Great Hall during breakfast to deliver letters and packages to their owners, but it was easy to get used to, as it was not the most surprising thing we had seen in the magical world.

So far, neither Hedwig nor Elon had brought either Harry or I anything, although they would sometimes join us for breakfast, nibbling our ears and stealing little bites of our toast before they flew off together to the Owlery for a good day's sleep with the other school owls. This morning would be different, though, as Hedwig fluttered down to land between the marmalade and sugar bowl to deliver a letter into Harry's lap. He picked it up straight away and tore it open, finding the letter inside written in an untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry and Cheyenne,

I know the two of you have no classes on Friday afternoons, so I wondered if you would want to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send your answer back wtih Hedwig.

Hagrid.

Harry asked Ron to borrow his quill and scribbled 'Yes, please, see you later' on the back of the note before he handed it back to Hedwig and sent her off again.

With an afternoon with Hagrid to look forward to, it made our first Potions' lesson a little more bareable, especially after how things went with Professor Snape. Both Harry and I had gotten the feeling our Potions' teacher hadn't really liked us at the start-of-term banquet, but by the end of our first lesson with him, we knew he _hated_ us.

Our Potions lessons were taught in one of the dungeons, where it was relatively colder than in the main parts of the castle and creepy enough without the glass jars housing the pickled animals inside.

Just like Flitwick, Snape started the lesson by taking roll call and paused when he got to my and Harry's names.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power, our newest...celebrities."

Draco Malfoy and his bodyguards hid their sniggers behind their hands while Snape finished roll call and looked up at the class. He had black eyes just like Hagrid, but they lacked all his warmth, making you think of cold, empty tunnels.

"This class is designed to teach you the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking." he said, in a volume barely above a whisper, but it wasn't hard to hear him; like Professor McGonagall, he knew how to keep a class silent without excerting too much effort. "There will be no foolish wand-waving in this class, so many of you may believe this is not real magic. I don't expect any of you will really be able to truly understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with it's shimmering fumes, the delicate power of the liquids that flow through a human's veins, the bewitchment of the mind or the ensnaring of the senses....If I can teach you all correctly you all should be able to learn how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death - that is, if this group isn't as big a bunch of dunderheads as past years have been."

Silence filled the dungeon after his speech. I blinked quickly, stunned, as Harry and Ron exchanged looks and Hermione scooted forward to the edge of her seat from my other side, looking more than willing to prove she wasn't a dunderhead like our teacher had said.

"Potter!" Snape barked out of nowhere. "Tell me, if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I get?"

Harry blinked in surprise at this question, his eyes stretching as he looked at Ron, who looked just as clueless about this answer as he did. Hermione shot her hand into the air.

"I-I don't know, sir," Harry answered.

A sneer curled the corner's of our teacher's lip and I had to purse mine to hold my tongue.

"Hm, clearly fame is not everything."

Ignoring Hermione completely, he turned his dark eyes on me.

"Perhaps you could pick up the slack, Power," he said softy. I clenched my hands under the desk, fisting them in my robes as I stared back at him. "If I were to ask you to get me a bezoar, where would you find it?"

I cleared my throat quietly and wet my lips, "If you were to ask me to find you a bezoar, sir, it would be found in the stomach of a goat and it is a stone needed to help act as an antidote against most poisons."

"Very good, it seems at least one of you decided to study your books before you came here. Let's see if Potter can redeem himself." he said, turning his gaze back on my best friend as I swallowed back a retort sitting on the back of my tongue. Hermione was still sitting on the edge of her seat, her hands on top of our table, looking eager to answer any questions Snape threw out that no one else knew. The Slytherins were sniggering behind their hands across from us as they watched. This was all very unfair, Snape couldn't expect all of us to remember all we'd read in our textbooks, if we had read them.

"Tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, Potter."

Hermione practically leapt to her feet at this question, raising her hand as high as it would go.

"I-I don't know...." Harry said slowly. "Why don't you ask Hermione or Chey, though....they both seem to know about this...."

A few of the other Gryffindors laughed as I shook my head, chewing my bottom lip, slightly as I stood up.

"Erm, Professor, a pop quiz on the first day seems a bit....tactless, don't you think? Not all of us are able to memorize things so easily, so it would hard for Harry to know the answers to these questions without advance notice to give him time to prepare. Then at least he would know if you were to brew asphodel and wormwood together that it would make a sleeping potion powerful enough to make someone sleep forever, which has earned it the name the Draught of Living Death. And there is no difference between monkshood and wolfsband, they're the same plant, which can also be called aconite."

Snape was silent a moment as he took this in, looking me over, his thin lips pursing. "Well?!" he finally snapped, "What are you all waiting for, you should be copying this down!"

The room was soon filled with the sound of everyone rummaging for quills and parchment and Snape spoke over it, "And for your cheek, Power, I will be taking a point from Gryffindor House."

Things did not improve for any of us Gryffindors as our lesson continued. We were all put into pairs after we'd taken our notes and set to brewing a simple potion that could cure boils. He swept up and down the rows, his long black cloak sweeping around him as he turned corners, casting a critical eye over all of us as we weighed dried nettles and crushed snake fangs and criticizing everyone about how they were doing, except for Malfoy, who he seemed to favor quite highly. He was just going over the 'perfect' way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when a cloud of acid green smoke filled the dungeon, accompanied by a loud hissing noise. We all turned to find the source, seeing Neville sitting on his stool, drenched in potion and sprouting angry red boils up and down his arms and legs while his potion melted Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob and seeped across the stone floor, burning holes into the soles of people's shoes. Everyone scrambled to get up high, jumping onto their stools and onto their tables to get out of the way.

"Idiot!" Snape snarled as he cleared the spilled potion away with a simple wave of his wand. "You were to remove the cauldron from the fire before adding the porcupine quills."

Neville whimpered in pain in response as boils began appearing on his nose.

"Take him up to Madam Pomfrey," Snape spat at Seamus before he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been sharing the same table.

"Potter, why did you not warn him not to add the quills too early? Did you think you would make yourself look better if he screwed up? I am taking another point off Gryffindor."

Anger flashed across Harry's face in response and he opened his mouth to retort, but Ron stopped him with a swift kick behind their cauldron before he leaned in to whisper something to him that made him keep his tongue.

I caught up with the boys as they were climbing the steps out of the dungeon an hour later cocking my head worriedly at Harry as he stared at the stones beneath his feet, looking deep in his own thoughts and downtrodden. I gently touched his shoulder, frowning worriedly, knowing he was probably wondering why our Potions teacher hated him so much. It was a mystery to me, too....he especially mistreated him over the other students, even if he did nothing wrong....

"Hey Harry, cheer up," Ron said, nuding him slightly. "Don't worry about it too much, Snape's always taking points off Fred and George, don't take it personal. Hey, when you and Chey got to meet Hagrid, mind if I tag along?"

The three of us left the castle together at five of three, making our way across the grounds to a small wooden cabin built on the edge of the forbidden forest that Hagrid had made his home. Outside the front door was a crossbow and a pair of galoshes.

Harry knocked and stepped back to wait, all three of us jumping when we heard a frantic scrabbling noise and a couple of loud, booming barks coming from inside. Hagrid's voice rang out then, making itself heard over the barks, "Back, Fang - back!"

The door opened just a crack, revealing a fraction of Hagrid's big hair face.

"Just one second," he said. "Get back, Fang."

He pulled the door open the rest of the way and let us inside, holding onto the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

The entire cabin was made up of one room, with hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling, while a copper kettle boiled over an open fire. In one corner was a massive bed covered in a patchwork quilt.

"Make yerselves comfortable," Hagrid invited as he let go of Fang, who immediately bounded at Ron and licked his ears, showing his true soft nature inside that big touch exterior.

"Hagrid, this is our friend Ron," I introduced as Hagrid poured boiled water into a large teapot and put several shapeless, raisin filled lumps onto a plate.

"Ah, another Weasley," Hagrid said when he spotted Ron's freckles. "Yeh know, I've spent nearly half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forbidden forest."

The shapeless lumps he offered to the three of us turned out to be rock cakes Hagrid had made himself, rock cakes that were so hard they almost caused us to break our teeth when we tried to take a bite. Harry, Ron, and I pretended to enjoy them as we told Hagrid all about our first week. All three of us were quite delighted when we heard Hagrid call Filch 'that old git.' "

"An' as fer that old cat of his, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. Everytime I go up ter the school she's always tailin' me....put up to it by Filch."

Harry went on to tell Hagrid about our lesson with Snape tis afternoon and he responded in kind similar to how Ron had, telling him not to worry about it, that Snape hardly liked any of his students.

"Yeah, but....he really seemed to hate me..."

"That's rubbish." Hagrid said. "What reason would he have for hating you?"

I frowned slowly, setting my teacup back in it's saucer as I observed Hagrid, noticing he was avoiding Harry's eye as he spoke.

"So, Ron, how's yer brother, Charlie?" Hagrid asked, quickly changing the subject. "He was quite a good student, good with animals, he was."

I looked quietly at Harry as he looked at me, both of us wondering for a moment if perhaps Hagrid had changed the subject purposefully. I shook my head and lifted my cup to my lips again, listening to Ron telling Hagrid about Charlie working with dragons while my eye fell on the piece of paper Harry had picked up, sliding it out from under the tea cozy. I leaned in closer for a better look, finding a clipping from the _Daily Prophet._

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

Investigations of the Gringotts break in on 31st July continue, as it is believed to be the work of Dark witches or wizards unknown.

Nothing has been taken from the vault in question, as it had, in fact, been emptied that same day, insists Gringotts goblins.

"If any of you know what's good for you, I would suggest you keep your noses out of our business and not worry about what was in that vault." A Gringotts spokesgoblin told us this afternoon.

I lifted my head quickly as I remembered Ron mentioning a break in at Gringotts to Harry and I on the train without telling us what the date had been."

"Hagrid!" Harry said quickly. "Hagrid, that Gringotts break-in, it happened on my birthday! It must have happened while we were there!"

Hagrd stuttered nervously in reply, trying even more feverently to avoid Harry's eye as he offered him another rock cake. Harry declined politely and returned to read the story again and I leaned over to read over his shoulder again, both of us in our own thoughts. The only vault we knew of that had been emptied, if you could really call it that, was vault seven hundred and thirteen, the vault Hagrid had taken that grubby little package from and it got me wondering if perhaps that was what the thieves had been after....?

My mind was still a whirlwind of thoughts as I walked back up to the castle with Harry and Ron for dinner, our pockets weighed down with rock cakes we were all too polite to refuse, talking quietly with Harry about it at intervels, the news clipping giving both of us more to think about than any of our lessons so far had. If indeed that package was what the thieves had been after, then perhaps Hagrid had collected it just in time and delivered it somewhere it could be safer, safer than Gringotts...but where, I could not say. I could hope, though, that the thieves that had been looking for it would not be able to find it where it is now, at least....not anytime soon, anyway....and then there was Snape....Hagrid's reaction had sparked something about our teacher's actions and overall involvement in this whole thing and I wondered if he perhaps played a roll in the break in. Was that something Hagrid was trying to hide from us? Did he know something he didn't want to share about the Potions' master? Maybe....the only thing I could not figure out in all this, though was why Hagrid would want to keep it a secret....what was so important to hide?


	9. Midnight Dual

Never in my life had I thought that there would ever be a boy that either Harry or I hated more than our cousin Dudley until the day we met Draco Malfoy.

Thankfully us first-year Gryffindors only had one class with the Slytherins, Potions, so we didn't have to deal with him that much....well....at least not until a new notice appeared on the notice board in the Gryffindor common room. It stated that our flying lessons would be starting this Thursday...and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be taught together.

"That's just typical..." Harry muttered darkly after we'd read the notice. "This is just what Chey and I need, embarrassing ourselves on a broomstick in front of Malfoy....not like he picks on us enough...."

I squeezed Harry's shoulder reassuringly, knowing learning to fly had been one of the things he'd been looking forward to the most. I'd even been looking forward to it myself and this news was rather....well....disheartening.

"C'mon, Harry, you don't know for sure that either of you will embarrass yourselves," Ron said reassuringly, giving us a bright smile. "I know Malfoy's bragged about knowing all he does about Quidditch, but that's probably just all talk. Like that cousin of yours, you know?"

Harry pursed his lips at the memory of our cousin, but then he sighed and nodded his agreement, knowing just as much about Malfoy's bragging as Ron and I did. His usual topics included his incredible flying skills, which were often accompanied by complaints about first years not being allowed brooms or allowed to try out for the house Quidditch teams. Long boastful stories would often follow, stories that usually ended with him narrowly avoiding detection by Muggles in helicopters. But he wasn't the only one; from what Harry and Ron told me, their dormmate, Seamus Finnigan, often bragged about spending most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell stories about riding his brother Charlie's broomstick and about the time he almost collided with a hang glider. The kids that came from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Harry even told me that Ron got into an agrumet with Dean Thomas about the Muggle sport soccor, which he had posters of that he had hung on the walls by his four-poster. Seeing as he didn't understand the Muggle sport, Ron couldn't see what was so interesting about a one ball game played on the ground. Harry said he'd once caught Ron prodding Dean's fan posterof the West Ham soccor team with his wand, as though trying to get them to move.

Some of our classmates, though, like Neville, had never gotten on a broomstick in his entire life because his grandmother wouldn't let him near one. Harry and I privately agreed that she had more than enough of a good reason to keep him from them, seeing as he had an extraordinary amount of accidents even just walking across a room.

Hermione was equally as nervous about flying as Neville was, especially since something like this wasn't something that could be learned by heart from a book, no matter how hard she tried. Thursday morning we sat through a lecture from her that included a lot of flying tips she'd read from a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages._ Neville and I were the only ones that were listening, Neville focusing his whole attention on her and absorbing her every word. She was only interrupted when the morning mail arrived.

I watched the owls circling over the tables, delivering the letters and packages to their respective owners before I sighed softly. Neither Harry nor I had gotten a single letter since Hagrid had sent us that note, something that failed to escape Malfoy's notice. Malfoy was always getting packages of sweets from home delivered by his eagle owl, packages he liked to open boastfully at the Slytherin table.

One barn owl swooped down over the Gryffindor table, dropping a small package in front of Neville. He opened it excitedly, pulling a large marble sized glass ball filled with white smoke from within.

"Oh, Gran's sent me a Remembrall!" he said with a smile. "It's to help me remember things I forget...just hold it tight like this and if it turns red then - oh no..." The smell fell from his lips as the smoke in the Remembrall turned scarlet.

"I've forgotten something..."

Neville paused to try and remember what he'd forgotten, failing to notice as Draco Malfoy stopped behind him on his way past the Gryffindor table and snatched the Remembrall from his hand.

Harry and Ron leapt to their feet immediately, clenching their hands, looking ready to start a fight, but Professor McGonagall, who was able to spot trouble faster than any other member of staff, appeared almost instantiously before any of them could make a move.

"What's going on here?"

"Malfoy's taken Neville's Remembrall, Professor McGonagall."

Malfoy scowled in response and dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"I was just curious," he told her before he sloped back toward the Slytherin table with Crabbe and Goyle trailing after him.

Three-thirty that afternoon, I followed the rest of the Gryffindors down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. The sky overhead was a clear cyan blue, cool breezes filling the air, blowing the hair from our faces and ruffling our robes, rippling through the grass underfoot as we followed the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the other side of the grounds, opposite the forbidden forest. It's trees swayed darkly in the distance, waving it's leaves at us in warning. Of what, I didn't know...but it was a warning nonetheless.

The Slytherins had already arrived, standing by twenty broomsticks that had been laid in two neat rows on the grass. Fred and George had warned us about the school brooms, that they sometimes acted of their own accord, like when they began to vibrate if flown too high or their tendency to tilt to the left.

Our teacher for this lesson was a shorter witch with short, gray hair and yellow hawk-like eyes who went by the name of Madam Hooch.

"Well, what are you all standing around for, hm?" she barked when she arrived. "Eveyone pick a broom and stand next to it. Come on now, hurry it up."

I stepped up next to one of the brooms, glancing down at the old, faded handle and disarrayed bristles.

"Now, I want you all to stick your right hand over your brooms and say 'Up!'" Madam Hooch called from her position at the front of the class.

Everyone did as instructed and we all chorused 'Up!'

My broom was one of the few that jumped up straight away. I looked at Harry, who held his broom like I was, exchanging looks with him before I looked around at our other classmates. Hermione was having a difficult time trying to get her broom up, as every time she tried it would simply roll over on the ground, but at least she was getting something; Neville's broom wasn't even moving as he tried to command it to come up, his voice quivering as he did so. Brooms seemed almost like horses, with the ability to sense when a potential rider was scared.

Once everyone had their brooms, Madam Hooch showed us how to correctly mount them without running the risk of falling off the end, then she marched up and down the rows, correcting our grips. Neither Harry nor Ron could contain their glee when Malfoy turned out to be one of the ones that needed to be corrected and we overheard Madam Hooch telling him he'd been doing it all wrong for years. My lips tweaked in amusement as well, but I quickly stirfled it, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"Now, when I have blown my whistle I want all of you to kick up off the ground, hard," Madam Hooch said. "Be sure to keep your brooms steady, only rise a few feet and then I want you all to come straight back down, which you'll be able to do by leaning forward, just slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

Neville, however, as nervous, jumpy, and frightened as he was, pushed off from the ground before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Get back here, boy!" she shouted after Neville as he rose steadily into the air, almost like a cork shot out of a bottle. His face was pale, devoid of any sort of color as he stared down at us from where he was rising. He gasped suddenly as he slid sideways off his broom.

A loud thud rent the air as he crashed to the grass, a nasty crack following immediately afterward. Neville lay facedown on the ground, crumpled in a heap, while his broom continued to rise steadily higher and drifted lazily toward the forbidden forest on the breeze, disappearing from sight.

Madam Hooch hurried over to Neville, bending down to inspect him, her face as white as his was.

"He's broken his wrist..." she murmured, mainly to herself. "Come on, boy, it'll be okay, let's get you up."

She helped Neville to his feet and turned to the rest of us.

"None of you is to move a single muscle while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You are to leave those brooms where they are now and if I catch any of you riding them you will be expelled from Hogwarts before you could say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

Neville hobbled out of sight with Madam Hooch, tears streaking his cheeks as he clutched his wrist, leaning against our teacher for support. No sooner had they disappeared then Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see the look on that great lumps face?"

The other Slytherins laughed in agreement with Malfoy.

"Oh shut up, Malfoy," Parvati snapped irritably at him.

"Ooh, I didn't think you'd go for the fat little crybabies, Patil," Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl, sneered in my dormmates direction.

"Hey, look!" Malfoy said suddenly as he darted forward and snatched something up out of the grass. "Looks like Longbottom's dropped the little gift his gran sent him."

Sunlight glinted off the Remembrall in his hands.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry told him quietly, making everyone stop what they were doing to turn and stare.

A nasty grin was Harry's only reply.

"No, you know, I think I'll leave this somewhere where Longbottom can find it like, hm, up a tree."

"You heard Harry, Malfoy, give it here!" I growled, taking a few steps forward and making a snatch for the Remembrall. Malfoy, however, leapt backward and climbed on his broom before taking off with it still in his hand. Although how he sat on it before had been wrong, he certainly hadn't been lying when he said he knew how to fly. He turned to us as he hovered level with the topmost branches of an oak and called back, "If the two of you want it that badly, then come and get it Powter!"

Harry and I quickly snatched up our brooms.

"No, you can't!" Hermione said anxiously, her eyes stretching wide. "Both of you heard what Madam Hooch said, if she catches you then we'll all be in trouble! Cheyenne, please don't do this!"

I looked quietly at her a moment, giving an apologetic smile. I knew what I was about to do was going to get myself and others into trouble, but what Malfoy was doing was not something I could just let him get away with. Harry and I had already had to deal with Dudley our entire lives and we hadn't been able to stand up to him because he had a big crew behind him, plus his parents. But now, we could stand up to a bully like Malfoy and we were going to. Mounting my broom, I kicked off hard from the ground and flew up after Harry, the wind brushing through my hair, pushing it back out of my face and whipping my robes behind me, blowing cool against my bare skin. A feeling of contentment and joy descended over me then and I felt a soft sigh escape me at how easy, almost natural, this felt. I looked at Harry then, returning the bright smile he directed at me before we lifted our brooms to go higher, the screams and gasps of the other girls following us, accompanied by an encouraging whoop by Ron.

We turned our broomsticks together to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Hand it over," I told him with a scowl, "or the two of us will knock you off that broom!"

"Oh yeah, I'd like to see you try!" Malfoy sneered in reply, worry still evident on his face.

I exchanged looks with Harry, both of us knowing almost immediately what to do. He turned his attention back to Malfoy and leaned forward, grasping the broom tightly. He shot toward Malfoy like a bullet, reaching out to grab the Remembrall, but he managed to dodge just in time. I imitated Harry's move and shot toward him next, just missing his arm as he narrowly dodged me as well. I made a sharp U-turn in midair, turning to face him again and holding my broom steady. A few people below clapped.

"There's no Crabbe and Goyle to cover for you up here in the air, Malfoy," Harry called out to him, making realization flash across his face.

"Catch this if you can, then!" he shouted in return and turned, throwing the glass ball high up into the air before he streaked back toward the ground.

Everything around us seemed to slow down ntil it was moving in slow motion as Harry and I watched the Remembrall arch high up into the air and then start to descend back toward the ground. Harry and I leaned forward on our brooms again, pointing them down in the ball's path and shot off after it, pulling down into a dive. The wind whistled in our ears, tussling our hair about, mixing with the sounds of screams from the watching crowd below. Harry stretched a hand out, catching the ball a foot from the ground. We jerked our brooms back, twisting to the side, causing Harry to gently bump into me as he topped off his broom, taking me with him onto the grass. We lay there, side by side, panting lightly and smiling together as he clutched the Remembrall in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER AND CHEYENNE POWER!"

The smiles quickly slipped from our lips as my heart sank like a stone into my stomach. Harry and I sat up together, turning to face Professor McGonagall as she marched toward us. Harry gently took my upper arm, helping me to my feet, both of us shaking.

"Never, not once in my entire career -"

Shock had almost rendered our Transfiguration teacher speechless as she stared at the two of u with furiously flashing eyes, "how you two dare - could have hurt yourselfs -!"

"But Professor, it wasn't their fault -"

"Please be quiet, Miss Patil."

"But it was Malfoy -"

"That is quite enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, Power, follow me, now."

I shakily took Harry's hand as we walked numbly after Professor McGonagall, catching a glimpse of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as we left. Neither of us said a word as we followed our teacher back toward the castle, both of us sure we were going to be expelled but unable to come up with anything to say to defend ourselves. Even if we had, it felt like my throat had closed and was stubbornly refusing to let me even try to string a sentence together even if I'd wanted to. Professor McGonagall swept along before us without a word, without even looking at us, walking so fast we had to jog just to keep up. We hadn't even last two weeks....I could just see us packing our trunks in ten minutes time, showing up at the Dursleys front door in twelve hours, getting leers, snickers from our aunt, uncle, and cousin.

She led the way up the front steps and marble staircase inside, still without a word. We followed her through the doors she wrenched open, down seemingly endless corridors, staring at our feet miserably, holding each other's hands limply, knowing she was taking us to Dumbledore. But wait...maybe we wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys....Hagrid had been expelled, but he'd still been allowed to stay as the school gamekeeper. Maybe we could stay and be his assistants! My stomach twisted sickly at the thought, though, at having to watch Ron and the others continuing their studies, getting to become full witches and wizards while Harry and I shuffled around the grounds, carrying Hagrid's bag.

It wasn't until we reached one of the classrooms that Professor McGonagall finally stopped. Telling Harry and I to wait a second, she opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I just borrow Wood for a second please?"

I looked up slowly at her words, blinking slowly and gulping thickly. Wood? Who was Wood? It couldn't have been an object, not with how she was talking.

It did turn out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who walked out of the classroom with a confused expression on his face.

"Follow me, you three," Professor McGonagall said as she marched off up the corridor. Wood looked at Harry and I curiously before we followed our teacher quickly. She stopped by an empty classroom and went inside, ushering us in after her and turning to the only other occupant in the room, Peeves, who was writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Peeves, out!" she barked at him. Peeves threw his piece of chalk into the bin, causing it to clang loudly as he swooped out of the room, cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door after him and turned to face the three of us.

"Potter, Power, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I have found you a Seeker and his Helper."

Confusion was replaced with delight as a smile split Wood's face and he beamed at Professor McGonagall.

"Really? Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," Professor McGonagall replied crisply, nodding her head. "These two are naturals on a broom. I haven't seen anything like that in years. Was that your first ride on brooms, Potter, Power?"

Harry and I nodded together, speechless, neither of us having the faintest inkling of what was going on, though the anxious, gut-wrenching feeling we'd had before when we thought we were going to be expelled was quickly disappearing.

"Potter caught that thing he's holding from a fifty-foot dive and Power was right alongside him the entire way," Professor McGonagall continued to Wood. "Either even scratched themselves. I don't even think Charlie Weasley would have been able to do that."

The expression on Wood's face was something akin to someone whose dreams were all coming true.

"Either of you seen a game of Quidditch, Potter, Power?" he asked us excitedly.

"Wood is the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team," Professor McGonagall explained to the two of us.

"These two certainly have the build for a Seeker and Helper, too," Wood said as he circled around Harry and I, inspecting the two of us. "Every lean, which means they're light, boosts their speed. We'll need to make sure they have decent brooms, something like a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven each, I'd say."

"I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore about bending the first-year rule for this. Heaven only knows that we need a better team than the one we had last year. After that final match against Slytherin, I couldn't even face Severus Snape for weeks...."

Professor McGonagall regarded Harry and I sternly over the rim of her glasses.

"If we allow you two onto the Quidditch team, I want to hear that you're both training hard, or I will change my mind about punishing the two of you." she warned us before she suddenly smiled.

"Your fathers would have been very proud of you both." she told us. "They were both excellent Quidditch players in their days."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're both kidding me, aren't you?" Ron asked in astonishment at dinner that night after Harry and I had recounted what had happened when we'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. A piece of steak and kidney pie was held halfway up to his mouth, but he seemed to have forgotten about it as he listened.

"Seeker and his Helper?!" he said. "But first years don't, aren't - you two must be the younger house players in a -"

"A century," Harry and I finished as Harry shoveled pie into his mouth and I took big bite out of my mashed potatoes. Both of us were particularly hungry after all the excitment of this afternoon. "Wood's told us."

Ron continued to stare at Harry and I, his mouth agape, his expression a mixture of amazement and impression.

"We'll be starting our training next week." I said after I'd taken a sip from my pumpkin juice. "But try and keep it under your hat, please, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George came into the hall then and made a beeline for Harry and I when they'd spotted us.

"Well done, Chey, Harry," George told us, lowering his voice so no one would overhear. "Wood's just told us. Fred and I are on the Quidditch team, too - Beaters."

"With the two of you on our team this year, we'll be shuins for the Quidditch cup," Fred said with a brilliant grin as he looked at me, causing my cheeks to warm quickly. "Our team hasn't won since Charlie graduated, but this year our team is sure to be brilliant. From what Wood's told us, you're both amazing. He was practically giddy when he told us."

"Well, we'd better get going now," George said as he clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Just wanted to welcome you two to the team, but now we have to go meet Lee Jordan. He reckons he's found another new secret passage out of the school."

"It's probably that one we found during our first week, you know, the one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. Anyway, see you."

Fred and George disappeared, only to be replied by someone who was far less welcome: Malfoy struted up to us with a sneer, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him as usual.

"So, haven't a final meal before you both have to leave, Powter? When's the train that'll be taking you two back to the Muggles going to be leaving?"

"Got a bit of your bravery back now that you're back on the ground with your little friends, haven't you?" Harry responded coolly, quirking a brow. Neither Crabbe nor Goyle could be considered little in any sense of the word, but seeing as how all of our teachers were currently sitting at the High Table over looking the hall, there wasn't much either boy could do aside from cracking their knuckles and scowling.

"I could take both of you on on my own at anytime," Malfoy shot back. "How about tonight, if you'd both be willing. I'll face you both in a wizard's dual. Wands only, no contact. Hm? What, has neither of you heard of a wizard's dual before?"

"Yes they have," Ron said as he wheeled around to face Malfoy now, too. "And I'm their second, who's yours?"

Malfoy glanced back at Crabbe and Goyle for a moment before gesturing to Crabbe.

"Crabbe is my second. So, we'll meet at midnight tonight, then, in the trophy room. It's always unlocked." he smirked and lead Crabbe and Goyle away.

Harry and I looked quickly at Ron with wide eyes, "Ron, what's a wizard's dual....? I've heard of it before, but I never got the correct meaning for it. And what's a second?!" I asked him quickly, gulping.

"A second's there to replace the first person in the dual if they were to die," Ron explained in a casual tone as he turned back to his cold pie. I almost felt the blood drain from my face and Harry quickly caught my shoulders as I started to sway. Ron caught the look on my face and quickly added, "But that usually doesn't happen unless it's a proper dual, you know, with full fledged witches and wizards. I think the most any of you will do really is send sparks at each other. We haven't learned enough magic to know how to inflict serious damage. He probably thought the two of you would have refused, anyway."

"But what if we try to cast a spell and nothing happens?" Harry asked as he helped me sit up straight again.

"Then just throw your wands away and punch him," Ron suggested with a shrug.

"Excuse me."

We turned at the sound of the voice and I smiled up at Hermione as she stood behind us, frowning deeply, clutching a bundle of books tight to her chest. She did not look none to happy.

"Can't we have a little peace and quiet to eat?" Ron asked huffily.

Hermione ignored him and turned to Harry and I.

"I couldn't help but overhear the conversation the two of you were having with Malfoy -"

"Oh I bet you couldn't," Ron muttered.

" - and I really don't think it would be a good idea for you both to go wondering around the school at night, you could lose Gryffindor points if you're caught and you could really be expelled. This isn't right. Cheyenne, you know this isn't right, what if -"

"Excuse me, but I really don't think this is any of your business." Harry cut in quickly before I could open my mouth.

"Harry's right, now good-bye." Ron said with a wave and a grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, this certainly hadn't turned out to be the most perfect end to our day. That thought ran through my head that night as I lay awake hours later, listening to the sounds of my dormmates as they drifted off to sleep. The only one missing from our dorm tonight was Hermione, who was probably down in the common room still studying or perhaps waiting for us to come down so she could try to stop us. I sighed softly, going through the tips Ron had given Harry and I about our dual, trying not to dwell on the thought of getting caught by the caretaker or his cat. We were, kind of, pushing our luck a bit, breaking two rules in a row, but....we just couldn't let Malfoy get away with what he had, we couldn't, it just wasn't fair. He just had to be knocked down a peg or two.

Rolling onto my side, I pushed the curtain of my four-poster to the side and reached through the small gap for my watch, which rested on my bedside table next to where I usually lay my glasses. 11:30 PM flashed in neon green from the watch's face and I knew it was time.

I climbed carefully out of bed, being sure to close my curtains securely around my four-poster so I wouldn't be missed before I pulled my bathrobe on, slipping my wand into one of the pockets before I tip-toed out of the dorm and crept down the spiral staircase into the common room, arriving just as Harry and Ron were stepping down from the boys' dorm. I crossed to meet them, passing the embers still glowing weakly in the fireplace, casting dark shadows over all the armchairs. We headed for the portrait hold, only to freeze when a voice came from the chair closest to us, "I can't believe the two of you are going to do this, Harry, Cheyenne."

The person sitting in the chair flicked the light on, revealing Hermione scowling at us, wearing her own pink bathrobe.

"You!" Ron growled furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother about this," Hermione snapped. "He would have put a stop to this, he is a prefect."

I felt a mix of shame and irritate worm it's way through me as I avoided Hermione's gaze. Ron gently pushed Harry and I before him, scowling at Hermione.

"C'mon, let's go," Ron muttered to us as Harry pushed the portrait open, gently taking my hand as we stepped through. But Hermione wasn't going to give up that easy. She followed after us, hissing angrily at Ron as she did.

"Don't any of you care about Gryffindor, not just yourselves? If you continue on with this, then you ensure the loss of all the points Cheyenne and I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells! I'm especially surprised and disappointed in you, Cheyenne, I never thought you would do something like _this!_ "

"Go away." Ron hissed at Hermione as Harry pulled me closer and picked up the pace to try and put some distance between us and Hermione

"Oh, fine, but I tried to reason with all of you, be sure to remember that tomorrow when you're packing your bags to go home." Hermione huffed before she whirled around, ready to return to the common room, only to freeze when she was faced with an empty portrait. She was locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" she shrilled.

"Not our problem," Ron replied. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have an appointment to keep."

We were just reaching the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up to us, looking resigned.

"I'm coming with you," she told us.

"No you're not!"

"I can't just stand here and wait for Filch to catch me! Besides, if I come with you and he catches all three of us, I can tell him the truth and you three can back me up!"

"You have some nerve -" Ron growled loudly.

"Shhh!" I hissed quickly as Harry pulled to a stop, glancing ahead of us, trying to pinpoint the source of the snuffling we could hear up ahead. "What's that?" I whispered, clutching Harry's arm.

"Mrs. Norris?" Ron breathed as he squinted to try and see through the darkness.

A figure was curled up on the stone floor in a ball, apparently asleep, only to jerk awake again at our approach. I let out a sigh of relief; it was Neville!

"Oh thank goodness you've found me! I've been trapped out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into the common room."

"Shh, calm down, Neville, please and lower your voice a little. The new password's 'Pig snout', but I'm afraid it isn't going to do you much good, the Fat Lady's gone off to visit someone." I told him, speaking as calmly and soothingly as I could.

"How're you feeling?" Harry asked, cocking his head worriedly.

"I'm fine," Neville said with a small smile as he showed us his arm. "It only took about a minute for Madam Pomfrey to mend my arm."

"That's great to hear, but look, Neville, we've kinda got to be somewhere, so we need to go. We'll see you later -"

"No, wait, don't leave me!" Neville squeaked as he scrambled up off the floor. "I-I don't want to be left here alone again, I've already seen the Bloody Baron pass by here twice...."

Ron checked his watch and then shot a furious glare at Hermione and Neville.

"If we get caught because of either of you I swear I'm not going to rest until I learn how to use that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell's told us about to use on you!"

Hermione opened her mouth to explain how that Curse worked but I quickly shook my head at her to tell her to keep it to herself before Harry gently pulled me after him as we continued down the corridor.

We continued on through the castle, flitting down long corridors alight with strips of moonlight that shone through the high windows. Harry stopped at every corner to peer cautiously around it, being sure we wouldn't run into Filch or Mrs. Norris before we continued on. Luck seemed to be with us as we ran into neither and made it safely into the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe hadn't arried yet, so we made ourselves comfortable as we waited. I watched the moonlight dancing off the crystal trophy case glimmering against the wall, making the cups, shields, plates, and statues within wink out at us in either silver or gold. We leaned back against the wall, eyeing the doors on either side of the room as we waited. Harry withdrew his wand, readying himself for the battle just in case Malfoy leapt in and started the battle straight away. The minutes crawled by as we waited.

"Malfoy's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered to Harry and I. A noise in the room next door followed this sentence, making all of just jump. Harry raised his wand defensively, frowning, only to tense as a voice floated in on the air, one that most definately was NOT Malfoy's.

"Sniff around, my sweet, these trouble-makers could be lurking in one of the corners."

My heart dropped at the voice and the color immediately drained of blood. Filch and Mrs. Norris! Harry whirled around to face the rest of us, horror-struck, his eyes stretched wide and his face chalk white like I was sure mine was as he ushered for the others to follow us before he grabbed my hand in his again and hurried toward the second door, away from Filch's voice. We had just barely escaped when we heard Filch enter the trophy room behind us.

"They're here somewhere, hiding possibly," we heard him mutter to Mrs. Norris.

"Quick, this way!" Harry mouthed as he led the way down a long gallery that housed the school's suits of armor. We crept as quickly and quietly along the gallery as we were able, avoiding the towering silver suits as carefully as we were able while the sound of Filch growing closer followed from behind. Neville began to panick and squeaked in fright before he broke into a run, only to trip over his own feet. He toppled into Ron, grabbing him around the waist and causing the two of them to crash into the suit of armor closest to them. They crashed to the ground with the armor, clanging and crashing the entire way, so loudly I was sure the entire castle had been awoken by the noise.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, grabbing at Ron's hand with his free one and yanking him back up as Hermione took Neville and we sprinted down the gallery, none of us brave enough to look back to see if we were being persued. Swinging around the doorpost at the end of the gallery, we galloped down each corridor we came across, Harry leading with me straight behind him, still clutching at his hand. Nothing was going through my mind except the thought that we needed to keep going, that we needed to escape, I didn't even know where we were or where we were heading. I didn't even know where we were as we ripped through a tapestry and raced along one of the hidden passageways until we came to a stop at the other end, which turned out to come out right ourside our Charms classroom. We were nowhere near the trophy room now.

"I-I think....we lost....him...." Harry panted as he and I leaned against the cool wall, wiping our foreheads. I slid down to my knees to catch my breath for a moment as Neville bent double in front of me, wheezing and spluttering incoherately.

"I-I told....you," Hermione gasped as she clutched at a stitch in her chest. "I....TOLD....you!"

"We'd better get back to Gryffindor Tower, quick," Ron panted.

"Malfoy tricked the two of you," Hermione hissed at Harry and I as he helped me back to my feet. "You both realize that, don't you? He never intended to meet you. Filch _knew_ there was going to be someone in the trophy room. Malfoy must have told him."

Harry frowned quietly in thought, knowing just as much as I did that Hermione was right, but looking unwilling to admit it.

"C'mon, let's go."

We weren't going to be getting away quite that easily, though. We had barely even left the Charms corridor when one of the classroom doorknobs in front of us began to rattle and something came shooting out from within.

"Oh no...." I whispered as it turned out to be Peeves, who spotted us and squealed in delight.

"No, Peeves, don't say anything, please, we'll get thrown out!" Harry pleaded quickly, making Peeves cackle.

"Oh, Ickle little Firsties wandering around the castle at midnight, such naughty little ones they are. You're all going to get caught!"

"If you don't give us away, we won't. Please Peeves, just let us go!"

"I should tell Filch about this, I should," Peeves said in a saint like voice as his eyes twinkled wickedly. "It'll be for your own good, you know."

"Just get out of our way!" Ron snapped as he took a swipe at Peeves. Big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls and vibrating in the air as loudly as the fallen suit of armor in the gallery had when Ron and Neville had knocked it over. "THERE ARE STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

We quickly ducked under Peeves and made a mad dash down the corridor, only to smash into the locked door it ended with!

"Oh no, this is it!" Ron moaned as we push and pulled helplessly at the door. "It's curtains for us, we're dead!"

Frantic footsteps grew louder in one of the conjoining corridors as Filch ran as fast as he could in the direction of Peeves's shouts.

"Oh move over!" Hermione snapped as she shoved us out of the way, snatching my wand from me. She tapped the lock with it and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked, finally allowing us to push the door open so we all could pile through and shut it quickly behind us before we pressed our ears against the wood to listen.

"Which way have they gone, Peeves?" Filch wheezed from the other end of the corridor. "Tell me, quickly!"

"Say 'please.' "

"Peeves, I don't have time for your foolishness, now tell me where they went!"

"I won't say nothing unless you say 'please'." Peeves replied in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right...please."

"NOTHING! Ha, I told you I wouldn't say it if you didn't say please first! Ha ha haaaaa!" I sighed in relief and pulled my head away from the door at the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing after him in rage. I finally turned my attention to the room we had stepped into, curious to know exactly where we were, only to freeze, my eyes stretching wide again.

We had not stepped into a classroom or room of any kind like we had though we had....we were in a corridor, the forbidden third floor corridor to be exact and now I knew exactly why this very corridor was off limits. We were now standing face to face with a monstrous dog, which took up the entirity of the space between floor and ceiling. Three heads were perched on it's shoulders, sporting three pairs of rolling, glinting eyes, three noses that twitched and quivered in our direction and three sets of drooling, yellow fang filled mouths that produced long, slippery ropes of saliva.

The creature towered over us, staring at the five of us with it's six wide eyes, apparently taken by surprise by our sudden appearance. It's surprise, however, was quickly fading as low, threatening growls were rumbling from deep in it's three throats.

My breath started coming faster as I pressed myself back against the door again, clutching tightly at Harry's arm as he was fumbling to grab the doorknob. I was a dog lover, yes, but this! Oh dear Merlin, help us!

The wood behind us suddenly vanished and the five of us fell backward, only to scramble back up, away from the door as Harry slammed it shut, whirling around again to lead the way back down the corridor. We practically flew down it we ran so fast, Filch only an afterthought now as our only instinct now was to put as much distance between ourselves and that dog! We didn't even think to stop and catch our breaths until we had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"And just where have the five of _you_ been?" she asked with raised eyebrows as she took in our disheveled state, the way our bathrobes hung limply off our shoulders alongside the flushed, sweaty states of our faces.

"N-never mind - pig snout, pig snout!" Harry panted desperately. She swung forward to admit us and we all scrambled into the common room to collapse into armchairs, still trembling.

Silence stretched between the five of us as we attempted to calm our breathing and heartrates. Neville looked so tramatized he looked as though he would never speak again.

"What in the world are the teachers thinking, keeping something like that locked up in a school?" Ron finally managed. "If there's any dog that needs it's exercise, it's that one!"

Hermione sat up straighter in her armchair, her breath regained and her bad temper flaring again. "None of you were using your eyes, were you?" she asked, glaring. "Did none of you see what it was standing on?"

"It was kind of hard to concentrate on anything but it's three heads, Hermione." I pointed out timidly. She scowled at me.

"Well if you'd paid attention you would have seen that it was standing on a trapdoor. That dog is obviously there to guard something."

She got to her feet, still glaring at us.

"I hope the three of you are thoroughly pleased with yourselves, we all could have died tonight, or worse, been EXPELLED! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his mouth agape.

"No, go ahead, we don't mind," he called after her with a frown before he turned back to Harry and I. "With the way she was talking you'd think we'd dragged her along!"

Hermione's words circled around in my brain for hours after that, though, giving me alot to think about as I followed her up to the dormity ten minutes later and returned to my own four-poster, trying not to feel sad as she refused to even ecknowledge me. That dog was put in that corridor to guard something, something important....this brought up the memory of what Hagrid had told Harry and I the first day we'd met him, about Gringotts being the safest place to hide something, aside from Hogwarts.

Could that trap door be where that grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen had gone?


	10. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I apologize for the really late update, but I was having some technical difficulties with my computer, which I am still trying to fix, but thankfully i have other devices I can use to post my chapters. I promise I'll work faster on the next chapter so you all won't be kept waiting so long. Thank you all for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy my stories.

The expression on Malfoy's face the next morning when Harry, Ron, and I showed up at breakfast as usual was priceless. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw our tired, yet cheerful faces as we sat together at the Gryffindor table, chortling over his astonishment before we turned our conversation to our adventure the night before. Ron and Harry seemed quite eager and reading to go on another, but I was a little more hesitant myself. What if we really got hurt next time? The adventure sounded fun, but we really needed to be careful next time. But, along with planning, Harry and I made sure that Ron was filled in on the package that had apparently been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts and we begun discussing what could possibly have been in that package that would need to be guarded so heavily.

"What ever it is, it has to either be really valuable or really dangerous," Ron said.

"Or maybe both," Harry and I pointed out together.

Those were our only assumptions of the object at the moment and some of the only things we knew was its two inch length, but that was all. Without further knowledge, we could only continue to guess.

Neville and Hermione were the only ones who didn't share our interest in finding out what the three-headed dog was guarding. The only thing Neville wanted to do was stay as far from that dog as possible.

Hermione, meanwhile, straight out refused to even talk to Harry, Ron, or myself. The boys, who thought she was just a bossy know-it-all, didn't really seem to care. I, on the other hand, hated the silence between us. Hermione was the first female friend I'd made at this school and any friends I made were important to me...I missed having her around to talk with when I didn't want to join in on planning the adventure or revenge against Malfoy with the boys. I wished I knew of a way to right things with Hermione...But, it looked like things just didn't want to work out for me...

A week had passed since our adventure and I sighed softly, picking at my eggs, missing Hermione at breakfast. The usual swoosh of wings overhead announced the arrival of the morning post then, causing murmurs to erupt throughout the Great Hall, catching my attention and making me lift my head. A dozen large screech owls were soaring around the rafters, carrying two long, thin packages. I glanced at Harry, wondering who these packages were meant for, seeing interest peak in his eyes as well, the same thought reflected in his gaze. We both returned our eyes to the owls and their large parcels overhead, amazement passing between us when they swooped in our direction. The two large packages were dropped on the table in front of us, knocking our plates and goblets aside. The screech owls fluttered out of the way, followed by a smaller owl that dropped a letter on top of the parcels.

I picked up the letter and ripped it open, curious to know who had sent us these and what they were. Harry leaned over to read over my shoulder, just as curious as I. The letter read:

**DO NOT OPEN THE PERCELS AT THE TABLE.**

Both contain your new Nimbus Two Thousands, but we cannot let the other students see them, least they ask for their own. Oliver Wood will meet with the two of you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock to begin your training.

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry was nearly quivering in excitement as I handed the note to Ron to read, trying to hide my own glee as well.

"Nimbus Two Thousands!" Ron breathed with a groan of envy. "I've never even been able to _touch_  one!"

We left the hall after that, wanting to get back up to the dormitories quickly so Harry and I could unwrap our broomsticks before class, but we had hardly even crossed halfway across the entrance hall when we were intercepted by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy came up beside me, seizing my package to feel what was inside. His face twisted into anger and jealousy as he thrust it back at me.

"Broomsticks, you two sent for brooms, Powter?" He sneered, his upper lip curling spitefully. "Oh, you two have done it now, just wait until one of the teachers finds out. First years aren't allowed brooms!"

Ron couldn't pass up this chance. He grinned cheekily at Malfoy.

"These aren't any old broomsticks, Malfoy," he told him. "they're Nimbus Two Thousands. Now, what broom did you say you had at home, a Comet Two-Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry and I. "Comets are really flashy, but they're not on par with the Nimbus."

I suddenly felt like we were High School kids trying to one up one another on who had the better car. Muggle kids seemed to like doing that a lot, especially the guys. Yet this 'my horse is better than your horse' fight was vastly different.

Thankfully, Professor Flitwick arrived to save the day in just the nick of time, "Not fighting in front of a lady, are you boys?" He squeaked from behind Malfoy.

"Potter and Power've been sent broomsticks, Professor," Malfoy told him before either Harry, Ron, or I could open our mouths.

"Ah yes," Professor Flitwick said with a beaming smile as he looked at Harry and I. "Professor McGonagall's already informed the rest of the staff about the special circumstances, Potter, Power. What models will the two of you be using?"

"Nimbus Two Thousands, sir," Harry and I said happily together, trying our best not to laugh at the horrorstruck look on Malfoy's face. "And we should really be thankful to Malfoy, we wouldn't have our new brooms if it wasn't for him. Thank you, Malfoy," I added gleefully to the blond, deciding to add the frosting to the cake by kissing his cheek, just to gross him out.

Harry and Ron were almost in tears by the time we reached the second floor, chortling under their breaths at the rage and confusion we left on our enemy's face.

"Well Chey IS right, if it hadn't've been for Malfoy, we wouldn't have gotten onto the Quidditch team at all," Harry laughed as we reached the top of the staircase.

"So I suppose the two of you think that some kind of reward for not following the rules?" An angry voice said from behind us, causing the laughter to die in my throat as it squeezed, reminding me of my earlier problem. I gulped, turning with Harry and Ron to watch Hermione stomp up the steps toward us, glaring heatedly at the packages in my and Harry's hands. I tried to smile at her, but it quickly faded when she shot me a glare, too, disapproval underlining her gaze. I quickly broke her gaze, tightening my hands around my broom.

"What happened, did you decide we'd had enough of the silent treatment? I thought you were refusing to speak to us." Harry said with raised eyebrows.

"I thought so, too," Ron interjected. "Please don't stop it now, it's been doing us so much good."

I elbowed both boys and gave them a pointed look as Hermione stuck her nose in the air and marched away, leaving me to sigh.

The day passed by slowly after that. After the events of the morning, I just couldn't keep my mind on my lessons, it almost felt like I'd left it upstairs in Harry's dorm with my new broom and the small bit of my brain still attached to my body kept wandering off toward the Quidditch patch, where Harry and I would be starting our training that night. We grabbed what ever our hands landed on first at dinner that evening and stuffed it on our mouths before rushing upstairs after, Ron close on one heels, so we could finally unwrap our Nimbus Two Thousands.

"Wow," Ron breathed as we let the new brooms roll onto Harry's bedspread, two beautifully sleek and shiny instruments with light mahogany handles and twin tails made up of long, neatly straight twigs. Nimbus Two Thousand was painted in gold at the very top of the handles, neat and written tastefully. I sucked in a deep breath of amazement, knowing next to nothing of the different broom styles and makes, yet marveling at the sight of the beautiful model before me.

As the day drew to a close and seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry and I took our brooms and set out into the dusk toward the Quidditch patch. Neither of us had gotten the chance to see the stadium before today. Stands of seats rose up in a large oval around the field, high enough that spectators could see the action of the game with little trouble. At each end of the field stood three tall golden hooped poles, towering fifty feet above us, almost like larger versions of the bubble wands Muggle children played with.

Both of us were two anxious to fly again to wait for Wood to arrive, so Harry and I mounted our brooms and kicked off into the air. The wind rustled my robes, blowing through my hair again, a rush of excitement building in my stomach. I giggled happily as I followed Harry over the field, swooping through the golden hoops together before we began chasing each other around the stadium in a game created of a combination of tag and just racing. It was easy to guide our Nimbus Two Thousands in the direction we wanted to go, as they seemed to react to even the lightest touch.

"Oi, Potter, Power, come over here!"

Harry and I turned together at the sound of the voice, spotting Oliver Wood by the stadium entrance, a big wooden crate tucked under one arm. We turned our brooms to land next to him.

"Excellent," he said once we were in front of him, beaming widely at the two of us with an enthusiastic gleam in his eye. "Now I see what McGonagall meant by you two being naturals. Tonight we'll just be going over the rules, so you two will be prepared when you join the team practice three times a week."

He set his crate down and opened it. Four different sized balls were inside, two of them strapped tightly in place.

"All right," Wood said with the same bright smile. "Now, even if Quidditch isn't always easy to play, it's easy enough for anyone to understand. A Quidditch team consists of seven, sometimes eight, players. Three of these players are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry and I repeated as Wood pulled a large bright red soccor ball sized ball out of the crate and held it out in front of him so Harry and I could see it better.

"This here is called the Quaffle," he continued. "Now, its the Chasers' job to handle the Quaffle, passing it to each other and trying to put it through one of the three hoops to get a goal. For every score they get, their team gets ten points. Still with me?"

"Three Chasers that throw the Quaffle to each other and try to put it through the hoops to score." Harry said. I nodded, then cocked my head slightly, "Almost sounds like basketball being played in the air." I said, looking at Harry, who nodded his agreement.

"What's basketball?" Wood asked, cocking his own head. I quickly waved my hand, smiling dismissively. "Oh, never mind _that,_  let's continue with our Quidditch lesson, yes?"

"...Right, well, anyway, another player on each Quidditch team is the Keeper, that's my position on ours'. My job is to guard the goal posts and keep the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," I recited this time, wanting to be sure I got it. "Their jobs are to deal with the Quaffle. Got it. What about these?" I asked, pointing to the three remaining balls curiously, noticing for the first time that the twin balls strapped in tight, two jet black spheres just a fraction smaller than the Quaffle, seemed to be actually rattling the crate, straining against their bonds.

"I'll tell you both now. Well, _show_  you," Wood said, gesturing for me to step back as he handed Harry a small, baseball bat like club. "Here Harry, take this."

He then pointed to the struggling balls, telling Harry to keep his eye on them before he cautioned him to stand back as well, "These two here are called Bludgers. Now let me just show you what they can do."

He pulled the strap over one of the Bludgers away as he spoke and it immediately shot out of the crate toward Harry, who just narrowly avoided getting hit in the face by taking a swing at it with his bat. The Bludger went zigzagging through the air before it returned to zoom around our heads. Then, it changed direction and pelted at me. Harry yanked me out of the way at the last second as Wood threw himself over the Bludger, pinning it beneath him.

"You see?" He panted as he forced the struggling ball back into the crate and strapped it in securely once more, "That's what the Bludgers do, they rocket around the field, trying to unseat as many players as possible. But that's why each team has a pair of Beaters. The Weasley Twins are the Gryffindor Beaters. Their job is to protect their team from the Bludgers, which they _can_  knock toward the opposing team. Still following?"

"Three Chasers use the Quaffle to try and score; the goals are guarded by the Keeper; Bludgers are handled by the Beaters." Harry said.

"Right," Wood said with a smile.

"So, erm, Wood?" I said uncertainly as a thought suddenly occurred to me, a thought that got me chewing my bottom lip nervously. "T - the Bl - Blud - gers, ha - have they e - e - ever...w - well, k - ki - kil - offed a - a - anyone?"

He smiled reassuringly at me, patting my shoulder, "Don't worry, Cheyenne, no one at Hogwarts has died from a Bludger attack. The most you'd have to worry about is a broken bone. But, anyway, onto the last couple of team members: the Seeker and his Helper. Those will be the two of you. Now, neither of you will have to worry about the Quaffle or Bludgers -"

"Unless we're being attacked by them..." Harry pointed out, making me tense. Wood just waved it off.

"Don't worry about that, the Weasleys are more than capable of handling the Bludgers. Those two are like a pair of human Bludgers, themselves."

I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped my lips as the tension left my shoulders, trusting our captain's words. Somehow, I just couldn't help but think they were true in more ways than one. Wood leaned down again to retrieve the last ball, which he stood up with, holding it tightly between his thumb and forefinger. Unlike the Quaffle and Bludgers, this ball was tiny, only looking to be about the size of a large walnut. The sun shone brightly off the shiny gold surface and the fluttering silver wings attached to it.

" _This_ is what you two have to worry about," Wood told us with a smile, "This is the Golden Snitch, the most important ball of the whole game. It's _very_  fast and difficult to see, so it's hard to catch, but that is the job of the Seeker, and his Helper, too. The two of you will need to weave through everything else to get to it before the other team's Seeker does. Harry, you job will be to find and catch it, and Cheyenne, as his Helper, you need to help Harry find the Snitch and once you do, you have to try and distract the other team Seeker as effectively as you can so our Seeker can get the Snitch. When the Snitch is caught, the game is over. Whichever team Seeker has it, their team receives an extra one hundred and fifty points, which helps them win the game. And that's why Seekers as usually fouled so much, Helpers, too. That's the _only_  way a game of Quidditch can be finished, otherwise it'll just keep carrying on for ages. I think the longest a Quidditch game has gone is three months. Substitutes had to be used a lot for when the players had to sleep and eat.

"But, anyway, that's all you'll need to know. Got any questions?"

Harry and I shook our heads in unison, understanding what we needed to do well. The way Wood had explained it seemed simple enough, but I knew on the inside that things in life were never quite _that_ easy. I could only hope we didn't fail our team on our first time out and I had to fight an embarrassed blush from creeping up my cheeks at the thought. Just stay calm, Chey, you'll do fine if you just keep your head.

"Right, well, for tonight we won't start your training with the Snitch _just_  yet." Wood said as he carefully returned the little golden ball to the crate, "it's getting dark and we don't want to risk losing it. We'll just start with these."

From a pocket of his robes, Wood produced a bag of ordinary golf balls, which we set to work with a couple of minutes later. We kicked off into the air once more, where Wood took to throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry and I to catch. We caught every single one of them together, impressing and delighting Wood tremendously. We kept it up for a half hour until night had completely fallen and we couldn't continue.

"Our names' going to be on that Quidditch cup for sure this year," Wood said brightly as we trudged back up toward the glowing lights of the castle across the darkened grounds. "Just the two of you wait, I bet a duo like you'll turn our better than Charlie Weasley and he was a natural! Could've been on the national team if he hadn't've decided to go off chasing dragons in Romania!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the addition of Quidditch practice three times a week now to accompany our work and our ever expanding lessons as we cleared our basics, time seemed to move seamlessly faster until Harry and I realized we'd already been at Hogwarts for two months. Our stay at the castle felt a great deal more relaxing than anywhere else and the two of us were happier calling this home than Privet Drive.

The smell of baking pumpkin was thick in the air on Halloween morning when we woke, prompting our mouths to water at the thought of the feast being prepared for tonight. Our day only got better after that, as Professor Flitwick announced during our Charms lesson that he thought we were all ready to start making objects fly. A murmur of excitement swept through the class, as we'd all been looking forward to trying that spell since we'd seen him use it on Neville's toad our first day. We were all put into pairs to practice, with Harry being paired with Seamus Finnigan, Neville being paired with me and Ron paired with Hermione. Neither seemed really thrilled with this arrangement, as they just scowled at one another over the feather they had to practice with. Hermione hadn't spoke a word to any of us since Harry and I had gotten our brooms. It was kinda lonely in our dormitory without a close friend to talk to...her silence over the weeks was probably rightly deserved, yet it was also becoming so unbelievably difficult to bear...

"Now, be sure to remember that nice wrist movement we've been practicing," Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice broke my thoughts, which i quickly shoved to the back of my mind with a sigh. "Just remember, swish and flick, yes? And be sure you speak clearly and properly, wouldn't want any of you to end up like Wizard Baruffio, who mixed up his 's' and 'f' and ended up on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

The spell Professor Flitwick set us was a difficult one to do. At the table to my and Neville's right, nether Harry nor Seamus could get their feather to rise and Seamus became so impatient he actually set fire to it. Neville was making as much progress as they were. I encouraged him gently, showing him how to correct his wrist movements and where he needed to correct his speech.

"There, flick it just like that and when you say the spell, say Wing - _gar_  - dium Levi - _o_  - sa, and be sure to make the 'gar' nice and long." I instructed. Neville sighed.

"I - I don't know, Cheyenne, it sounds easy, but I don't think I can do it."

I gave him a gentle smile, "I'm sure you can, Neville, you just need a bit of confidence, that's all. Here, I'll demonstrate the spell for you and then you can try again. Would you like to try it that way?"

Neville nodded meekly, fixing his gae solely on me now, watching intently as I picked up my wand, cleared my throat and flicked my wand at the feather, saying loudly and clearly,  _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

Our feather rose from the desk to hover four feet over our heads.

"Well done!" Professor Flitwick cried, clapping heartily, making me jump in surprise and look around, blinking, "Everyone look here, Miss Granger and Miss Power have done it!"

I looked around at Hermione and Ron to see that she was indeed making her feather float in the air just as I was mine. I caught her eye and gave her a small smile before lowering my gaze and allowing my and Neville's feather to drift back down to the desktop so Neville could try again.

Ron was in a surly mood by the end of class.

"She's a nightmare, honestly," he ranted as he pushed his way out into the corridor with Harry and I right behind him. "It's no one's guess why no one can stand to be around her. And look at what she'd done to you, Chey, turning you into an insufferable know-it-all!"

I felt anger coil in my stomach at those words and I opened my mouth to defend Hermione when I felt Harry stumbled into me as someone hurried past. Hermione? Harry pointed out that she looked like she was crying. I glared at Ron, who immediately looked uncomfortable as he scratched at the back of his neck.

"W - well, it's true...." he stumbled, not meeting my gaze. "I mean, c'mon, she must have noticed she doesn't have any friends."

 _"I'm_ her friend!" I snapped, crossing my arms. Ron didn't have anything to say after that and just remained silent. Good, now hopefully he would listen. "You know, it doesn't _hurt_  to get to know someone different, Ron, it might just prove to be a good thing in the end." I told him as we entered our next class. Hermione was missing, however, and she continued to remain missing throughout the rest of the afternoon. Scolding Ron was high on my priority list now, but it would have to wait....Hermione....where could she have gone off to? Was she all right? No, of course she wasn't, especially after hearing such hurtful things from one of her classmates, one of her peers. It had to be devastating, especially in an all new school like this, where you didn't know anyone or had friends from home to turn to for support. I was left to worry and wonder about Hermione until Ron, Harry, and I were heading down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast when we overheard my dormmates, Lavender and Parvati, talking about how Hermione had locked herself in the girls' bathroom and refused to come out. They even said she had been crying.

Ron shifted awkwardly under my glare at this news and I opened my mouth to say something, only to have the boys' attention snatched away as we entered the Great Hall and saw the Halloween decorations for the first time.

Over two thousand live bats filled the hall, half of them fluttering about the walls and ceiling while the other half swooped low over the five long tables in big black clouds, the wind from their wings making the lit candles stutter, casting shadows behind the carved faces of their pumpkin holders. Our feast magically appeared before us, just as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

I sighed as I watched Harry and Ron load up their plates with food, my heart just not into the festivities as my mind just kept drifting toward the girl locked in the bathroom, crying her eyes out, believing she was alone and hated here. What was I doing just sitting here while Hermione was miserable and needed someone there to comfort her? She needed a friend right now. Harry and Ron were distracted by their food, so they didn't even notice as I got up from the bench and started for the entrance hall. I was just reaching the doors when Professor Quirrell sprinted into the hall, his face full of terror and his turban knocked askew. Everyone turned in their seats to watch as he ran up to the High Table, where he collapsed before Professor Dumbledore's chair and gasped, "Th - there's a troll - i - in the dungeons - I - I thought...you ought to know."

The news sent a cold chill down my spine, dropping a block of ice into my stomach. But that didn't stop me; I bolted before I could see the mayhem that was evidently going to follow. Screams echoed out of the Great Hall behind me, followed by several loud bangs, but I ignored them, pushing myself faster, skidding around a corner and bolting down the next corridor. I had to be quick, I had to be stealthy, just like if I was running from Dudley's gang. I couldn't get caught now without first warning Hermione, she didn't know about the troll and I wasn't going to let her become a victim of it's club. Trolls didn't eat people, but they didn't have a lot of brainpower either, so their usual method of greeting something new included using whatever weapon they had (their usual was a wooden club) to smash it into a pulp. She was angry with me and I was scared our friendship was over, but I still considered her _my_ friend and she didn't deserve that fate, she didn't deserve to be killed by a troll or to be alone. No one deserved to be alone, ever, I should know....I just had to get to the girls' bathroom and get Hermione to safety.

Quick footsteps behind me shook the thoughts from my mind and I quickly ducked around the next corner, crouching in the shadows of a suit of armor, where I listened to the footsteps drawing closer, my breath catching in my throat as I tensed my muscles in preparation. The one thing I was not prepared for, however, was the appearance Professor Snape as he rounded the corner. He passed my hiding spot without so much as a glance in my direction, hurrying out of view once more. I frowned after him, wondering what in the world he was doing up here. I would have thought the school staff would be down in the dungeons dealing with the troll. Speaking of the troll....I still needed to get to Hermione and -

Something foul in the air hit my nose at that second, burning my nostrils and making my eyes water. My stomach turned at the mixed smell of old socks and unwashed public toilet, internally grateful I hadn't been in the mood to eat down in the Great Hall least my meal be climbing back up my throat now. Shuddering heavily, I quickly covered my nose with a sleeve of my robes, glancing to my right, where the scent was coming from; this had to be the troll, what else could it be? It had somehow managed to escape the dungeons. I was running out of time.

I turned left then, spotting the door to the girls' bathroom at the other end of the corridor. My heart leapt and I quickly galloped toward it, throwing myself through the door, leaving it open behind me so we could make a quick getaway. The sound of someone sobbing and sniffling in the stall furthest from the door filled the chamber, causing my heart to squeeze as I hurried toward it, stopping before the stall door.

I hesitated for just a second, chewing my bottom lip before I gently called Hermione's name, knocking gently against the wood with my knuckles. A soft sniffle and then a whimper was my only reply, "Hermione, it's Cheyenne. Look, I know you don't want to talk to anyone right now, especially me, after everything that's happened. I'm sorry, for everything, but especially the things that have caused the rift in our friendship. I - I want to try and fix things between us, you're one of the only friends I have here. You're not alone, Hermione, and you're not a nightmare like Ron said. You're a great friend and I couldn't have asked for a better one. Please, come out."

Silence followed my speech and I started chewing my bottom lip again as the seconds ticked up, hoping and praying Hermione believed me and would come out. We didn't have a lot of time to waste, we had to get out of here, quickly! Thankfully at that second, there was the sound of the metal lock sliding out of place and the stall door swung open, revealing a puff-eyed, blotchy faced Hermione. My heart lightened and squeezed at the same second as I watched her sniff and rub at her red eyes, sighing quietly in relief.

"Ch - Cheyenne..." she sniffled. I gave her a soft smile, reassuring, consoling, holding my hand out toward her. "C'mon, we can do apologizes properly in Gryffindor Tower, but right now we can't stick around here, we have to leave. I'll explain properly on the way." I promised, quickly pulling her out of the stall when she'd taken my hand. She continued to sniffle softly and rub at her eyes, following my quietly without complaint, which I was grateful for. I turned quickly, pulling her with me, intending to pull her out of the bathroom and toward Gryffindor Tower, only to freeze at the sight before us.

Something big and granite gray towered twelve feet above us, the stench from before suffocating my senses, my skin prickling, the hair all over my body raising. I leaned backward to get a better look at the creature, taking a few steps back, pushing Hermione back with me. The troll lulled it's small bald coconut head forward on it's lumpy shoulders, from where it was perched atop its boulder-like body, blinking slowly at the two of us with a blank look on its face. It shuffled closer on short, tree trunk thick legs attached to a pair of horned feet, a huge wooden club dragging behind it due to its elongated arms. I had to fight to keep calm and think of a plan; if I could find a way to distract the troll long enough that Hermione could make her escape and get the teachers, that would be wonderful. But how could I -?

My thoughts were cut off when the door behind the troll suddenly slammed shut and the sound of the lock turning echoed loudly in my ears, making my heart drop. NO! We were trapped in here with this troll!

My eyes shot from where they'd looked past the troll to the door, back up at the creature towering over us, my heart plummeting further at the sight of the troll raising it's thick club high over its' head. My body tensed in response and I moved quickly without thinking, my only instinct to protect Hermione and myself, as I whirled on my heel, yanking my hand from Hermione's and shoving her back. She stumbled and fell back into the stall she'd been hiding in before while I threw myself into a neighboring one, just avoiding the troll's club as it created a crater in the floor where we'd just been standing not seconds before. With a grunt, the club was lifted and swung violently. I quickly flattened myself to the floor, avoiding the club as it crashed through the stall walls. Pain flashed across my back as bits of wood landed heavily on top of me, trapping me under a small pile of splinters. A scream echoed in the chamber, reverberating off the walls, ringing in my ears. I pushed the wood off my head so I could lift it and push myself into a sitting position. The troll was leaning in on a pile of wood where Hermione was attempting to free herself. I quickly scrambled to my feet.

"Oi, lumpy! Pick on someone your own size!" I shouted loudly to draw its attention, snatching up a large piece of wood and slamming it into the wall as hard as I could. The resulting bang was what drew the troll's attention, making it turn, abandoning its target as it started toward me. "Hermione, make a run for it!" I shouted again, trying to keep its attention, banging the wood against the wall once more; it cracked and splintered loudly at the force, the splintered ends digging painfully into my palm where I held it. The troll lifted its club in response and I stumbled backward once more, slipping on a few smaller pieces of wood, my legs slipping out from under me as I fell back, just avoiding the club for a third time as it created another crater in the floor.

"Hermione! Chey!"

My heart leapt up at Harry's voice and I leaned around the troll to get a look, relief flooding through me at the sight of my best friend as he and Ron ran through the door. The troll didn't hear him yet and reached toward me now with one large, grimy hand, pulling its club out of the way with the other. I screamed as I felt its hand touch the bottom of my robes, kicking at its knuckles with my foot as I scrambled backward again.

"HEY, LEAVE HER ALONE!" Harry shouted from behind the troll, throwing something metal against the wall as hard as he could.

The creature finally stopped, turning its attention toward the noise, blinking its beady eyes stupidly as it spotted Harry. There was only a few seconds hesitation before it changed direction and lumbered toward him now, lifting its club again as it went.

"Oi, pea-brain!" Ron shouted from across the chamber, throwing one of the metal stall locks at the troll. It hit its shoulder, but it was Ron's yell that made it stop again, turning in Ron's direction now, giving Harry the chance to run around it and to my side.

"Chey, are you okay? Where's Hermione?" he asked quickly, taking my arm and helping me to my feet. I looked around for her, spotting her pressed back against the wall by the sinks, shaking heavily, her eyes stretched wide in fear as she stared up at the towering creature we were trying to distract. Harry and I rushed to her side, grabbing her arms.

"C'mon Hermione, we have to run, NOW!" I told her quickly, persuasively, pulling at her arm as Harry pulled at her other, the two of us trying to get her toward the door. She was petrified, though, refusing to move a single muscle as she continued to stare at the troll, her mouth hanging open in terror. "Hermione, please, we _have_  to go! We don't have time for - Harry -!"

"Wha -?" Harry turned to where I was pointing, his eyes widening; the shouting and echoing seemed to have finally driven the troll mad. It roared in frustration and started toward Ron, the only closest and most trapped of us. Harry abandoned his task of pulling at Hermione's arm and turned to the troll again, doing something very unexpected; with a running leap, he managed to fasten his arms around its neck from behind. The troll didn't notice, though, until Harry's wand, which had been in his hand when he'd jumped, was sent straight up one of its nostrils.

It howled loudly in pain, twisting and flailing its club about, trying to dislodge or strike at Harry, who clung on for dear life.

Hermione sagged beside me and I staggered, trying to remain standing upright while supporting her weight as well. Ron, meanwhile, pulled out his wand and opened his mouth,  _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The club in the troll's hand slipped from its grasp and rose high into the air, turned over so the blunt end faced downward, then, with a loud, sickening crack, it dropped down atop its owner's head. The troll stilled, then swayed on its feet and did a faceplant into the floor, the entire room trembling with the force.

Harry stumbled back to his feet, panting breathlessly while Ron stood, frozen in shock, his wand still raised as he stared at what he'd done. I helped Hermione slowly back to her feet and we took a few hesitant steps forward.

"I - I - Is it de - dead?" I stuttered worriedly.

"No, I don't think so," Harry said reassuringly, bending down to pull his wand from the troll's nostril as I moved to his side to ensure he was still in one piece, "I think Ron just knocked it out, that's all. Ew..." he mumbled, wrinkling his nose at the lumpy gray glue stuck to his wand.

I shuddered, wrinkling my own nose in disgust, _"Eeew!_  T - troll b - b - boogies."

He quickly wiped it off on the troll's trousers.

Doors slamming nearby and loud footsteps drawing nearer caught our attention, making the four of us look up, having not realized until now just how much noise we had been making, with the combination of crashes and the troll's roars. Several teachers hurried through the doorway, Professor McGonagall in the lead with Professor Snape behind her and Professor Quirrell in the rear. With one look at the troll, Quirrell whimpered faintly and sank onto the nearest toilet, his hand over his heart.

Snape moved closer to inspect the troll while Professor McGonagall's face twisted into a mask of fury, her flashing eyes setting on Harry, Ron, and I, her lips pursed so tightly they were a pale white. My mind drew a blank on what we were going to tell her as I met her furious gaze before lowering mine to the stone floor, pressing my hands together and fidgeting nervously.

"What in the world were the three of you thinking?" Professor McGonagall said in a taut voice full of cold fury. I glanced up under my lashes at Harry, who gulped thickly and glanced nervously at Ron, who still held his wand aloft. "You're all lucky to still be alive! Why haven't you gone back to your dormitory?"

Snape's gaze swept up to Harry and I, his eyes piercing through us. I ducked my head again, letting my hair fall over my shoulder to create a kind of curtain between us.

"P - P - Pro - Prof - fes - s - sor -"

"Please, don't blame them, Professor McGonagall....they were just looking for me."

"Miss Granger?" Profesor McGonagall said in surprise, her gaze cooling a few degrees as she turned to Hermione as she stepped up to stand beside me, speaking for the first time since the attack.

"I went out looking for the troll, thinking...thinking I could take care of it myself, since I've read so much about them."

I lifted my head as Ron's wand cluttered to the floor and Harry blinked. Hermione,  _lying? **To a**_ **teacher?!**

"I would probably be dead by now if they hadn't've found me. Cheyenne came straight after me to convince me not to face the troll, but it was too late...Harry and Ron had to come and save us; Harry stuck his wand in its nose and Ron used the Flying Enchantment Professor Flitwick taught us to use its club to knock it out. They had to hurry to find me, so they didn't have time to warn anyone else....if they had, the troll would have finished me off..."

I tried not to look at Harry and Ron in bewilderment, doing my best to arrange my features into a neutral mask so as not to give anything away.  

"Well, if that is indeed the case..." Professor McGonagall said slowly, staring around at the four of us slowly, processing this for a second. "Miss Granger, that was truly a foolish notion, believing you could tackle a mountain troll all on your own!"

Hermione let her hand hand as the rest of us were rendered speechless, knowing she was the last person to break the rules, yet pretending she was now to help keep us out of trouble. What was next, would Professor Snape start being nice and handing out sweets?

"For your reckless behavior, I am taking five points from Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall continued, "I am very disappointed in you, Miss Granger. If you have no injures, then head straight back to Gryffindor Tower. The feast is being finished in the House dormitories."

Hermione left without another word.

Professor McGonagall returned her attention to Harry, Ron, and I.

"Well...I _will_ say the three of you were extremely lucky, not many first years can say they've taken on a fully grown mountain troll and lived to tell about it. Each of you will receive five points for Gryffindor. Professor Dumbledore shall be informed of this. You all may leave."

Harry grabbed my hand, pulling me from the chamber, none of us daring to speak again until we were a couple of floors up. The smell faded with distance, making it easier to breath again. I sighed slowly in relief.

"Seems like we should've gotten more than fifteen points for _that,"_  Ron grumbled.

"Well, actually ten, once Professor McGonagall's taken the five off Hermione." I pointed out with a smile.

"True...It was good of her to help get us out of trouble like that," Ron said with a nod, "But then, we _did_  save her."

"Yeah, but we did accidentally lock the thing in the bathroom with her and Chey in the first place," Harry pointed out, smiling apologetically in my direction. I'd already suspected as much, considering how quickly the two of them had shown up while Hermione and I were being attacked. I smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand soothingly, grateful that things had worked out and everyone was safe now. We were all lucky to be walking away with minimal damage.

It wasn't long until we reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Pig snout," we told her before climbing through into the common room, where the entire Gryffindor House was packed, conversing heartily over the food that had been brought up from the kitchens. The only one who wasn't participating in the feast was Hermione, who stood by herself by the portrait hole, waiting for us. Embarrassed silence passed between the four of us, during which Hermione and I exchanged small smiles, even as she and the boys avoided each other's gazes. Then, as one, we muttered our thanks to one another and went to join the others in the feast.

After that, things seemed to patch up between all of us, especially Hermione and myself, our friendship renewing and becoming stronger as stronger bonds formed all around. There are just some things that cannot be overlooked or ignored, things that can offer any kind of effect, good or bad, that could change a person's life. I guess battling a twelve foot mountain troll isn't one of the more conventional ways, but it did change things between the four of us, thankfully for the better. 


	11. Quidditch

The temperature began to drop as we entered November, turning the mountains surrounding the school an icy gray and causing the lake to look like chilled steel. Frost began covering the grounds during the morning hours and we would often be able to see Hagrid from an upstairs window out on the grounds, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat and wearing rabbit fur gloves and a pair of enormous beaverskin boots, defrosting broomsticks on the Quiddtich field.

 

With the drop in temperature, it marked the beginning of the Quidditch season. After weeks of training and learning the ropes of the game, my and Harry's very first Quidditch match would take place this Saturday, a match of Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. If Gryffindor won this match, we would move up to second place in the house championship.

 

No one else aside from Wood and the rest of our Quidditch team had seen either Harry or I play, since Wood's idea was that he wanted to keep us a secret until everyone saw us during our first match. And yet somehow our secret had managed to leak out, resulting in a mixture of people telling us we were going to be brilliant or that they would be running around under us holding a couple of mattresses.

 

With the addition of Quidditch practice to our schedule, working through all our homework had become somewhat difficult, but with help from Hermione, Harry and I were able to get through it, especially with all the last minute training sessions we had to endure before Saturday. And when we had free time, Harry and I were able to read Quidditch Through the Ages, a book Hermione had let us borrow, which turned out to be quite an interesting read.

 

From reading Quidditch Through the Ages, we learned of the seven hundred ways a Quidditch foul can be committed, all of which occurred during the Quidditch World Cup of 1473; that most Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to the smallest and fastest of the team, the Seeker and Helper; and that although it was rare for a player to die during a Quidditch match, it seemed common that referees were known to vanish, only to turn up in the Sahara Desert months later.

 

Since our encounter with the troll, Hermione had learned to relax when it came to rulebreaking and had become friendlier toward Harry and Ron for saving her and I from it. The day before our first Quidditch match, the four of us went out into the freezing courtyard during our morning break, so, to keep us warm, Hermione conjured up a bright blue fire we would be able to carry around in an empty jam jar. We stood around the jar, our backs to the fire to keep warm when Snape decided to join us. I cocked my head curiously, noticing the slight limp in his stride as the four of us moved closer together to block his view of the fire, knowing it wouldn't be allowed. There must have been some guilt lingering on our faces which caught his eye, however, as he turned and limped toward us. It didn't look like he'd seen the fire, but he was obviously looking for a reason to lecture us about something.

 

"What's that you're reading, Potter, Power?"

 

He glanced down at the book in our hands; Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry held it out for him so he could read the cover.

 

Snape narrowed his eyes and snatched the book out of Harry's hands, "Library books are to be kept inside the school, Potter, Power." he snapped. "That will be five points from Gryffindor."

 

"Nothing in the rules says we can't take any library books out onto the grounds so long as we don't take them home with us during the holidays." I said with a frown as I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, eying our teacher as he limped away, "I wonder what happened to his leg, though....?"

 

"I dunno, but I hope it's really bothering him," Ron said bitterly.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

That evening, the Gryffindor common room was crowded and noisy. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had taken some chairs by the window, where Hermione and I were looking over the boys' Charms homework and making corrections wherever necessary. Hermione had a rule against them copying, saying they wouldn't learn if they did, which I honestly had to agree with, knowing they would need to learn from their mistakes to be able to master their lessons.

 

Harry couldn't sit still and I couldn't say I blamed him; the idea of our first Quidditch match tomorrow was nervewracking and neither of us was able to relax without something to distract us. We wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to be able to sit and read it to help us tame our nerves. We needed to go get it back from Snape; why should we be scared of him, the most he could do is give us a detention or take more points off us, but that was it. We hadn't done anything wrong. Harry got up and helped me to my feet, telling Ron and Hermione we were going to get the book back from Snape.

 

"Better you than us," they told us together, although Harry looked like he already had an idea in mind about what he was going to say to Snape, which he shared with me only after we'd left the common room. I nodded my agreement, figuring with an audience Snape wouldn't cause too much of scene and flat out refuse us. With that in mind, we headed downstairs to check the staffroom first, where Harry knocked once. No one answered so he knocked again, only to end up with the same result. I looked up at Harry, frowning slightly.

 

"Do you think he left it inside?" I asked him curiously. He nodded, looking thoughtful, "Do you think we should check to make sure...?"

 

"Yeah, let's just peek inside to make sure no one's inside first," he suggested, taking one of the handles and pushing the door ajar so both of us could peek through, only to freeze at the scene before us.

 

The only ones inside the staffroom were Snape and Filch. Snape held his robes up over his knees while Filch was examining the bloody, mangled mess that was his leg before he started helping him bandage it.

 

"That blasted thing," Snape growled as Filch wrapped his leg. "It's nearly impossible to keep your eye on all three heads at once, how're you supposed to get past it?"

 

I grabbed Harry's arm, trying to pull him away as he tried closing the door quietly behind us, but -

 

"POTTER! POWER!"

 

Fury twisted our Potions' teacher's face as he quickly dropped his robes to hide his wounded legs. Harry gulped thickly as I ducked behind him, peeking over his shoulder at Snape's crimson face.

 

"W - we didn't m - mean t - t -to in - in - t - terrupt -" I started to say.

 

"GET OUT! OUT!"

 

Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me away before Snape could do anything to either of us, both of us sprinting all the way back toward Gryffindor Tower.

 

"Did you get the book back?" Ron asked as Harry and I rejoined him and Hermione, taking in our wide-eyed and surprised expressions. "What happened?"

 

Sitting together in Harry's earlier chair, we recounted what had happened in the staffroom in low whispers.

 

"Do you know what this means?" Harry said breathlessly when we were finished. "This means Snape tried getting past that three-headed dog on Halloween! That must have been where he was going when Ron, Chey, and I saw him, he wants whatever that dog is guarding! And I'll bet my broomstick that he was the one who let the troll in to make a diversion!"

 

Hermione's eyes were as round as plates by the time we finished.

 

"B - but, he wouldn't do....something like that...." she said uncertainly, her eyes darting away as Harry, Ron, and I turned to stare at her in disbelief. "I - I mean, I know Professor Snape isn't all that friendly, but he is loyal to Dumbledore, he wouldn't be trying to steal what he's trying to protect."

 

Ron shot her a sceptical look, "Hermione, you can't honestly believe all teachers are saints," he snapped. "After something like that, I gotta agree with Harry and Chey on this one, I don't trust Snape. But what could he possibly be after? What is it that dog is guarding?"

 

My mind was abuzz with all of these questions as we all departed to be that night, making it difficult for me to find restful sleep, even as the rest of my dormmates, including Hermione, enjoyed the blissful unconsciousness. I turned over in bed, hugging my pillow, doing my best to empty my mind, push these thoughts to the back of my mind, just for tonight, knowing I needed my sleep. I had to get some rest for tomorrow so I could be of some use during the Quidditch match. And yet the image that continued to plague my mind that night remained that of the furious expression on Snape's face when Harry and I had seen his injured leg.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next morning was bright and cold, which did little to dampen the bright spirits of the other students in the Great Hall at breakfast, which was full of their enthusiastic chatter and the scent of fried sausage. Everyone was looking forward to the Quidditch match, talking cheerfully about how good a game it was bound to be. Harry and I did not much share their enthusiasm.

 

"Come on, Harry, Chey, the two of you have got to at least eat something." Hermione urged gently as she pushed my plate closer to me. I glanced down at the food, feeling the color drain from my face and quickly pushed the plate away again, laying my arms on the table and my head on top of them, groaning.

 

"We're not hungry," Harry responded quietly.

 

"At least have a bit of toast...." she hedged.

 

"No~" I groaned again, lifting my head to look at her, trying to ignore the churning in my stomach as I ran my fingers through my hair, my nerves chattering uneasily at the thought of what awaited us in an hours' time.

 

"Oh c'mon Harry, Cheyenne, the two of you will need your strength," Seamus Finnigan said encouragingly. "Seekers and their Helpers are always the ones who get the clobberings from their opponents."

 

I hid my face again as he started piling ketchup on his sausages, even less reassured than before.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

By the time eleven o'clock came around, the entire school seemed to have been packed into the stands around the Quidditch patch, many of the students sporting binoculars to see the action better. Even from their high vantage points in their seats, it could still be difficult to see what the teams were doing at times.

 

I glanced out the door of the changing room as I raked my hair back into a ponytail, looking around for where Ron and Hermione could be, my stomach twisting and knotting painfully as our time to play drew closer, only feeling a momentary relief when I spotted them sitting up in the top row with Neville, Seamus, and Dean. I was even a little surprised to see them holding up a large banner that said Powter for President over a drawing of a large Gryffindor lion, with the words flashing different colors. I turned and gently tugged on the sleeve of Harry's set of scarlet Quidditch robes, pointing out the door to where our friends were sitting with the banner. A weak smile tweaked his lips at the sight and I ducked around him to straighten my own set of robes as Wood came out of the Captain's office and cleared his throat to catch our attention.

 

"All right men," he began.

 

"And women," one of our Chasers, Angelina Johnson, interjected.

 

"And women," Wood said with a nod of acknowledgement. "This is it."

 

"The big one," Fred said dramatically.

 

"The one we've all been waiting for," George said.

 

"We know Oliver's speech by heart now," Fred told Harry and I with a wink, "we were on the team with him last year."

 

"You two, shush," Wood said firmly. "Now, we all know this is the best team Gryffindor has had in years, which will give us a fighting chance, will make this our year. We're going to win, I feel it."

 

He glared around at all of us as thought to say 'Or else.'

 

"Right, it's time to go. Good luck everyone."

 

Harry and I picked up our brooms and followed Fred and George out of the locker room, taking each other's free hands nervously and squeezing. I could feel Harry shaking just as badly as I was and I silently prayed for the strength to keep him and myself upright as we stepped out onto the field, where we were greeted by loud cheers.

 

The two teams walked out into the middle of the field, where Madam Hooch, who would be our coach for today, was waiting, her own broom in hand.

 

"All right Gryffindor, Slytherin, I want a nice clean game, from all of you," she told us once we were all gathered. Harry and I cocked our heads together, noticing she seemed to be speaking in particular to the Slytherin team Captain, Marcus Flint, who was a bulky, toll looking sixth year. The banner our friends had made caught our eye then and we looked around at them, both of us smiling faintly, reassurance seeping into us and confidence taking root.

 

"Everyone mount your brooms."

 

Harry and I squeezed each other's hands one last time before letting go and climbing onto our Nimbus Two Thousands.

 

Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

 

Sixteen pairs of feet kicked off hard from the ground, propelling the brooms and their riders high into the air. We were off.

 

"And right out of the gate the Quaffle is taken by Chaser Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - a rather excellent player and quite attractive, too -"

 

"JORDAN!"

 

"Sorry Professor."

 

I looked up at where Harry was hovering several yards away from me, stifling an amused giggle as Fred and George's best friend, Lee Jordan, took responsibility of the commentary for the match, monitored closely by Professor McGonagall.

 

"And there she goes, racing up the field, passing the Quaffle cleanly to Alicia Spinnet, an excellent addition to the team, found by Oliver Wood last season, although then just a reserve - and it goes back to Johnson and - oh, and the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle from Gryffindor, with Captain Marcus Flint in possession as he flies the Quaffle back down the field - looks like an eagle flying up there, Flint does - oh and he's about to sc - no, oh, stopped with an excellent maneuver from Gryffindor Keeper Wood and now Gryffindor is back in possession -  with Chaster Katie Bell of Gryffindor racing back up the field toward the Slytherin goals, she dives around Flint, and - OUCH - oh, that must have hurt taking a hit to the back of the head from a Bludger like that - Slytherins have the Quaffle again, with Arian Pucey in possession, speeding back toward the Gryffindor goal posts, but he's blocked by the other Bludger - curtesy of Fred or George Weasley - a nice play by the Gryffindor Beaters, putting their team back in possession as Johnson takes the Quaffle, who streaks up a clear field - look at her fly -  she dodges a speeding Bludger - she's almost to the goal posts - c'mon Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives and misses - GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

 

The Gryffindor side of the field burst into cheers, overriding the howls and moans of the Slytherins.

 

I pumped a fist into the air in celebration without turning away from my task of helping Harry's locate the Golden Snitch as he did a couple of loop-the-loops himself, the two of us soaring high above the game as we did, keeping to the strategy Wood had come up with. He'd told the two of us to stay out of the way until we caught sight of the Snitch, to lessen the change of one of us being attacked before then. Each of us spotted flashes of gold, which just turned out to be reflections off someone's wristwatches and we even had to dodge a Bludger that came belting our way, seeming more like a cannonball than anything. Fred chased after the pitch black ball, his Beater's club raised.

 

"Doing all right, there, Harry, Cheyenne?" he yelled back at us as he smacked the Bludger furiously in Marcus Flint's direction.

 

"Slytherin now in possession," Lee Jordan said from below. "Chaser Pucey manages to dodge both Bludgers and Weasleys, along with Chaser Bell as he speeds toward the - oh, wait, was that - is that the Snitch?"

 

Harry and I turned at that, our ears buzzing with the murmurs that ran through the crowds below. I spotted it first and pointed out it's direction to Harry, who immediately dove after the streak of gold. I glanced around toward the Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, to see if he had spotted it, too, my heart sinking as he dove after my best friend. I dove after him to cut him off and distract him as best I could, diving between him and Harry and then slicing cleanly across his path. He jerked his broom back, cutting off his dive, leaving Harry to speed off after the Snitch as the Slytherin Seeker tried to recollect himself. I stopped, whirling around to find if he had caught it, catching sight of Harry chasing the Snitch across the field. He was putting on a burst of speed, his arm stretched out, fingers just inches from the little ball when -

 

"NO!" I shouted angrily as an outraged roar rose from the Gryffindors below. Marcus Flint had blocked Harry purposefully, knocking him off course, leaving Harry to cling on for dear life. I flew after him to help straighten him out, grabbing the handle of his broom as I did so and shooting Flint a glare over my shoulder.

 

"FOUL!" Came from the Gryffindors below.

 

Madam Hooch spoke heatedly to Flint and granted a free shot at the goals for Gryffindor. Unfortunately, in all the confusion, the Golden Snitch disappeared from view again.

 

After making sure Harry was straightened out again, I released his broom, looking worriedly at him, but he smiled reassuringly, telling me we should look for the Snitch again. I nodded my head in agreement, turning away to scan the field again. A Bludger whizzed by, whipping a few loose strands of hair out of my face. Harry suddenly grunted behind me and I glanced behind me worriedly, wondering if he'd gotten hit by the Bludger when it'd passed. He didn't look like he'd been hit, but something was definitely wrong. His eyes were widened in fear and confusion, while his hands and knees were gripping his broom tightly as though he was about to be thrown off his broom. I frowned deeply, turning fully to face him, ready to ask him what was going on when the strangest thing happened.

 

His broom bucked, hard, like a bull trying to dislodge it's rider. He clutched harder on the handle, gulping thickly. I frowned even more deeply, knowing something like this was not normal, especially for a broomstick like the Nimbus Two Thousand. We had to do something and now. I had half a mind to go to the Gryffindor goal posts and tell Wood to stop the match this second when Harry's broom bucked even harder than before. He looked as though he couldn't even control his broom anymore; any second now he could be thrown off and to his death. The broom started zigzagging through the air and once in a while making violent swishing movements that came close to unseating him.

 

I glanced in Wood's direction quickly, then looked back at Harry, torn on what to do now, knowing we needed to stop the match and save Harry, but I didn't want to leave him alone now, not with his broom acting so strangely. This had to a strong Dark magic, that was the only explanation, a jinx from someone in the crowd below, possibly one of the adults; a student wouldn't be able to do something like this, not even any of the older students.

While I contemplated this, Harry's broom had started to roll over and over again as he clung desperately to it. Then it suddenly gave a wild jerk, throwing him off and leaving him to swing from the handle with one hand. I made my decision.

 

Leaning in close to the handle my broom, I shot back to his side, stopping close enough that I could reach across and clamp my hand down over his, holding him in place as I held my other hand out to him, looking down into his frightened eyes, "Harry, take my hand, I've got you!" I told him. He reached up with his free hand, gripping my hand tightly. I squeezed his hand softly, reassuringly, letting him know I was here for him and I wasn't going to let him go. His broom started to vibrate really hard under our hands and I tightened my hand over his, trying to keep him on his broom as I used my other hand to grip him around the wrist and hold him in place.

 

Then, without warning, my broom began to vibrate under me as well, weak at first, but slowly getting stronger as the vibrating in Harry's broom weakened. I glanced down at my broom with wide-eyes, then looked at Harry again as we both seemed to come to the same conclusion: the curse on his broom was getting turned to mine, possibly as the caster turned his attention from Harry to me. If it continued like this, I could take the curse for Harry and make sure he was safe. I looked down at him again as my broom vibrated harder and started to buck just as his did.

 

"Harry, it looks like the curse is getting switched over to me and if I'm right, then when I let go of you, I want you to get as far away from me as possible, do you understand?"

 

He looked up at me as though I was crazy, furrowing his brow deeply up at me, looking ready to argue, but I cut him off, "Harry, you need to get the Snitch. End the game and then we can take care of me, okay?"

 

The vibrations and wild bucking that had taken control of Harry's broom had finally subsided and now I was struggling to remain on mine. Gently squeezing Harry's hand again, I let go of him, pulling my hand off his and leaning away from him, only to almost be unseated. I clutched my broom tightly, doing my best to stay on as I told Harry to go, go find the Snitch. He grabbed his broom with his other hand and started to swing until he could swing up onto it again before he sped off. I continued to clutch to my broom as the bucking got stronger and more violent. It started doing exactly what Harry's broom did, with the bucking and vibrating, the loop-the-loops, which got me dizzy quick, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut to try and stop the spinning. My grip subconsciously loosened and with the next wild buck, I myself was thrown off my broom, left to dangle from the handle by my hands. I clutched to it as tight as I could, doing my best not to lose my grip again as I kicked at the air with my feet. The broom continued to buck violently, vibrating hard, loosening my grip even as I did my best to hang on until I only hung on with one hand, three fingers....two....

 

I clamped my eyes shut again as I got down to one finger, readying myself for when I was finally dislodged and thrown to my doom below, resigning myself to that fate; I'd done what I could, I'd protected Harry from harm, I'd made sure my best friend was safe and sound, that was all that mattered. I could only hope for his health and safety from here as my broom gave one final, hard buck and sent me free-falling through the air. A collective gasp filled the air and I barely held back the scream building in the back of my throat as I tried to ready myself to lessen the impact of the fall, even though I knew there was little I could do to stop the earth from shattering my bones upon contact. But then, a miracle happened -

 

Instead of cold, hard earth, I landed on something soft and warm,something that gave a loud 'oof' as we drifted slightly lower. I tensed immediately, surprised, unsure what had happened before it slowly started to sink in that someone had just saved me, that I wasn't going to die. Slowly, I opened my eyes, letting out breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, letting the truth settle in before I shifted slightly against whatever, or whoever, I had landed on so I could look over my shoulder to see who it was. My heart fluttered in my chest and my face immediately warmed as my eyes connected with a pair of warm, chocolate brown eyes set into a light skined, freckled face.

 

"All right there, Chey?" Fred panted as he helped me sit up on his broom while he straightened it out again, smiling at me with his head cocked to the side, just enough to be cute, causing my blush to darken. I managed a weak nod, gulping thickly to try and clear my throat so i could speak. However, a great roar broke out around us before I could gather my speech again, making the two of us jump and look around with wide-eyes, wondering what was going on, only to see a sea of red and gold flooding the field, honing in on where Harry was standing,waving one hand in the air, something gold glistening in his palm. A smile split my lips at the realization of what had occurred and I threw my arms around Fred, squealing happily. Harry had caught the Snitch!

 

"Gryffindor wins! Gryffindor wins, by a hundred and seventy points to sixty!" Lee Jordan yelled into his microphone as Fred laughed and hugged me back. It took me a couple of minutes before I realized what was happening and I quickly pulled away from him, blushing brightly again and clearing my throat nervously, "E-erm, I-I should, Harry..." I said, pointing nervously down to the ground. Fred chuckled softly and nodded his head, flying down to land on the field. George landed beside us a few seconds later and handed me my broomstick, which I took gratefully, nodding to him before I hurried over to where Harry was celebrating with Ron and Hermione. I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly in excitement, shouting congratulations. He laughed and hugged me back tightly, asking if I was all right, pulling back so he could look me over. I smiled at him, reassuring him I was all right, that nothing was broken or misplaced. He looked relieved, smiling lightly. Before we knew what had happened next, we found ourselves in Hagrid's hut, each with a strong cup of tea each, listening to Ron and Hermione explain what they had discovered while we were fighting to keep ourselves on our brooms.

 

"It was Snape, "Ron explained dramatically as we sipped our tea, "Hermione and I actually saw him muttering the curse under his breath and he wouldn't take his eyes off the two of you the entire time."

 

"Rubbish," Hagrid growled, apparently having not been paying close attention to what had been going on in the stands beside him during the game. "Why would Snape, or any Hogwarts teacher, do somethin' like that?"

 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I all exchanged looked, unsure whether or not we should tell Hagrid the truth. One gaze between Harry and I helped us make our decision.

 

"Harry and I found out something about Snape yesterday, when we went to go get a book back that he unfairly took from us...." I said, looking at Harry to see if he wanted to continue.

 

"On Halloween, when that troll got into the castle, we think Snape may have been trying to get past that three-headed dog and it ended up biting him. He's trying to get whatever that dog is guarding."

 

Shock froze the giant, his black eyes widening as the teapot in his hands slipped out of his fingers.

 

"How do the four of you know about Fluffy?" he asked in astonishment.

 

I almost choked on my tea, staring at Hagrid in disbelief, "Fluffy?!"

 

"Yeah, he's my dog, I won him off a Greek chap up at the pub las' year and then lent him to Dumbledore to help guard the  -"

 

"Guard the what?" Harry asked Hagrid eagerly, leaning toward him excitedly.

 

"No more questions," Hagrid growled gruffly, pinning the four of us with a stern look, "I won' be answering anymore questions about this, it's top secret."

 

"But Hagrid -"

 

"No, I don't want to her anymore of this, Snape is a Hogwarts teacher, he's trying to protect it, not steal it." Hagrid said.

 

"Then tell us why Snape tried to kill Harry and Chey today?" Hermione asked incredulously. The rest of us looked at her in surprise for a moment, although Harry and I were glad to see that today had certainly made her see the truth about our Potions' master.

 

"I know a jinx when I see it, Hagrid, both Chey and I read about them, even she'll agree that it was a jinx. In order for it to work properly, the caster has to keep eye contact and Snape didn't blink once. I saw it myself."

 

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid shot back hotly. "I don' have the faintest idea why Harry and Cheyenne's brooms acted the way they did, but Snape wouldn' try ter kill his students. Now, I want the four of you ter listen ter me - don't meddle in things like this that don't concern yeh, it's dangerous. Just forget about that dog, an' about what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel -"

 

"Aha!" Harry and I exclaimed together, "so one of those involved is named Nicolas Flamel, is it?"

  
Hagrid did not look happy after that.


	12. The Mirror of Erised

Before we knew what had happened, Christmas was almost upon us, established by the several feet of snow we awoke to in mid-December. With the drop in temperature, the lake had completely frozen over and already students, like the Weasley twins, were getting in trouble for enchanting snowballs to following students and teachers, like Professor Quirrell, around. Those few owls that were able to withstand the harsh weather to deliver the mail had to take a few days to recuperate, courtesy of the Hogwarts' gamekeeper. 

Everyone was excited and anxious for the holidays to start. With roaring fires in the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall to keep us warm during meals and our down times, we had to endure icy, bitter cold winds that blew through the drafty corridors between classes and rattled the classroom windows. Our worst class during winter was most definitely our Potions classes down in the dungeons, where we had to huddle close to our hot cauldrons in an effort to stay warm while our breath rose in misty clouds before us.

"Oh, how I do so feel sorry," Draco Malfoy said aloud during one Potions class, "for those people who will have to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, all because they're not welcome at home."

He smirked in my and Harry's direction as he spoke, earning chuckles from his cronies. Harry and I looked at each other over Harry's measurement of powdered spine of lionfish before I rolled my eyes, neither of us even bothering to dignify the snide comment with a response, knowing Malfoy was only being extraordinarily malicious since his house had lost to Gryffindor in the last Quidditch match. For a while afterward, for example, he had even tried making a cruel joke about how a wide-mouthed tree frog would soon replace Harry as Seeker for the Gryffindor team in an effort to make fun of him, only to soon find his joke was not nearly as funny to everyone else, since everyone was still extremely impressed with the way Harry and I had managed to stay riding our broomsticks while they were cursed, as well as how we had helped one another when it was most needed. So, when that plan bit the dust, Malfoy returned to taunting Harry and I about how we didn't have a proper family. 

It wasn't a lie that neither Harry nor I would be returning to Privet Drive for Christmas, as when Professor McGonagall had come around the week before with a list that would consist of the students remaining at the castle for the holidays, the two of us had immediately jumped at the chance. Neither of us felt sorry for ourselves at all, but were, in fact, quite looking forward to this Christmas, as we wouldn't have to return to Privet Drive to endure mistreatment from our aunt, uncle, and cousin, nor the obvious implications of having to watch our cousin open his endless bundles of presents right in front of us just as we had every year. We wouldn't be alone, fortunately enough, too, as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be visiting their second eldest son, Charlie, in Romania for the holiday, meaning Ron and his brothers would be remaining at Hogwarts for the holidays as well. 

As we left the dungeons at the end of our Potions lesson, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were quite surprised to find our way blocked by a large fir tree which took up the entirety of the corridor. Just underneath the lowest hanging branches, we could see a pair of enormous feet and heard a loud puffing sound announcing who exactly was carrying such a plant.

"Hey Hagrid, need any help?" Ron asked as he stuck his head through some branches. 

"Nah, that's all right, Ron, thanks though."

"Hello, some of us need to get by and you're blocking our way, move," Malfoy's cold, drawling voice called from directly behind us, making me jump and hug Harry, blinking at our foe in surprise as he sneered at Ron, "So, trying to earn some extra money, are you, Weasley? Perhaps you're looking to become the gamekeeper once you're done with your schooling, huh? Hagrid's hut must seem like a palace compared to what you're used to growing up in." 

Ron lunged at Malfoy at the same second that Snape came up the stairs behind us.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron immediately scowled and released the front of Malfoy's robes.

"Malfoy provoked him, Professor Snape," Hagrid said as he stuck his large, hairy face around the tree. "He was insultin' his family."

"That may be the case, but it is against the rules to be fighting, Hagrid," Snape told him silkily. "That will be five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and consider yourself lucky it isn't more. Now, move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all pushed roughly past Hagrid, scattering pine needles everywhere with victorious smirks on their faces. 

"One of these days," Ron growled through gritted teeth as he glared after Malfoy's retreating form. "when he least expects it, I'll get him..."

"I hate both of them," Harry announced then with a frown. "Malfoy and Snape." I nodded my agreement.

"Aw, c'mon, cheer up yeh four, it's almost Christmas," Hagrid said cheerfully, drawing our attention once more. "Hey, how about t'is, I'll take yeh ta see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

The four of us conceded and followed Hagrid and his tree to see the Great Hall, which was currently being decorated by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. 

"Ah, Hagrid, there's the last tree - just put it there in that far corner, please."

The hall was amazing, decorated with festoons of holly and mistletoe which hung from the walls all around the twelve towering Christmas trees that stood around the room, decked out in tiny icicles and hundreds of glittering candles. 

"How many days do yeh got left before the holidays?" Hagrid asked once he had put the tree where it belonged.

"Only one," Hermione told him with a thoughtful look in her eyes. "Which reminds me - Chey, maybe you, Harry, Ron, and I should spend the half hour before lunch in the library."

I nodded my head in agreement, "That sounds like a good idea, we still have a lot of research we have to do before you go home for the holidays." 

"Researching, right before the holidays?" Hagrid asked as he followed us out of the hall. "What are the four of yeh looking for that could be so important?"

"It's not schoolwork, if that's what you're thinking," Harry said brightly. "The four of us have been doing research on Nicolas Flamel since you brought him up after our last Quidditch match."

"What?!" Hagrid said in shock. "Now you four listen here, I've told yeh, just drop it. It's no concern of yours what that dog's guardin'."

"We're just curious to know who Nicolas Flamel is, nothing more." I reassured him with a small smile, lowering my gaze at his glowering stare. 

"Unless you would like to prove us with a little bit more information, Hagrid, maybe save us the trouble of having to look through so many books," Harry hinted. "After all, we've probably been through hundreds of them by now and we can't seem to find him anywhere. At least give us a hint. Chey and I are sure we've seen his name before." 

"I won't say nothin'," Hagrid told us flatly.

"I guess we'll just have to keep looking, then," Ron said with a shrug before we split off from Hagrid and headed toward the library, who frowned disgruntled after us. 

We hadn't been lying to Hagrid when we said we'd been looking through all the books we could get our hands on to find out exactly who this Nicolas Flamel was from the day he had let it slip; if we didn't look, we wouldn't know what exactly Snape was trying to steal from under Professor Dumbledore's nose. The only problem was we didn't even know where we were supposed to begin to look, so didn't know what kind of book Flamel could be in. He hadn't been in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Ours Time;nothing had been dedicated to him in Important Modern Magical Discoveries, or A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, we had to take into consideration of the sheer size of the library, packed with tens of thousands of books upon thousands of shelves, among hundreds of narrow rows. 

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she and I had worked on together in the common room that we could search through and we strode off looking through the rows of books while Ron walked off searching for any books that could relate to our search. Harry, meanwhile, wandered in the direction of the Restricted Section, making me pause in my own search and change direction to see what he was doing, a few books already stacked in my own arms. The two of us had often talked about the possibility of Flamel being in a book in that section, although the two of us knew we wouldn't be able to get into it and find out until we had a specially signed note from one our teachers to even look at one of those books and the chances of that happening were slim to none. The books in the Restricted Section were full of powerful Dark Magic none of the teachers taught here at Hogwarts and usually only the older years were allowed to study them if they were taking advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

"What are the two of you looking for?"

Harry and I jumped at the growl from behind us, turning quickly to find the librarian, Madam Pince, glowering down at the two of us, her lips pursed, a feather duster clamped in one hand. 

"N-Nothing m-m-ma'am!" I squeaked. 

She narrowed her eyes at us, taking in the books in my arms, causing my to smile sheepishly and hold them out to her. She snatched them from my hands, brandishing her feather duster at the two of us in the process.

"If you're not looking for anything, then get out. Go on - out!"

Harry grabbed my wrist and quickly pulled me out of the library, at which I let out a slow, shaky breath, chewing my bottom lip, wishing I'd thought up something better to tell Madam Pince before she threw us out. Harry squeezed my wrist reassuringly, both of knowing Ron and Hermione would continue our search and tell us what they found at lunch later on. The four of us had already agreed we wouldn't ask Madam Pince anything about Flamel, the risk of what we were doing reaching Snape's ears too great over the possibility that she could know where we could find him.

Harry and I waited outside in the corridor for Ron and Hermione to join us, hoping they would find something, anything; I tried to remain optimistic, knowing Flamel had to be somewhere in one of those books, but Harry was beginning to lose hope. I couldn't really blame my best friend, considering we'd been looking for over two weeks already, but then, we hadn't been allowed my time for research, considering we could often only look between those odd times between our lessons. We just needed a chance for a long, extended search with the risk of the old, snarky librarian breathing down our necks.

Five minutes passed before Ron and Hermione joined us, both of them shaking their heads before leading the way toward the Great Hall for lunch.

"The three of you will continue searching while I'm at home, won't you?" Hermione asked, looking to Ron, Harry, and I with determination in her eyes. "And be sure to send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you be sure to ask your parents if they know who Flamel could be," Ron said with a nod. "It'd be safe to ask them, right?"

"Right, both my parents are dentists after all," Hermione agreed.

~~~~~~~~~

The beginning of the holidays drove the thought of Flamel clear out of my, Harry, and Ron's minds, as the three of us were having too good a time to even spare it a single thought. With a majority of Gryffindor House gone for the holidays, the three of us had our dormitories and even the common room to ourselves, so we were able to secure the armchairs closest to the fire; and I was able to sneak over to the boys' dormitories to sleep in one of the empty beds at night, since I wasn't used to having such a big room all to myself. We enjoyed our time by the fire, spearing anything we could on a toasting fork to stick over the flames - bread, English muffins, marshmallows - and talking amongst ourselves of different things, which included the boys plotting ways to get Malfoy expelled, although many of them would be doomed to fail. 

In between plotting, Ron had begun teaching Harry and I wizarding chess, which was almost exactly like Muggle chess, except the chess pieces were bewitched to be alive; the player became more like a war general directing his men in which direction to go. Ron had a very old and battered set which had been handed down to him from someone in his family; in this case, this set had once been his grandfather's. Having old chessmen wasn't a drawback, however, as Ron had gotten to know them quite well and knew how to direct them efficiently. 

Harry and I, meanwhile, played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had been generous enough to lend us and let's just say they don't exactly trust us all that much. We still had a lot to learn and we often had to endure the different pieces shouting different pieces of advice at us, which only continued to confuse us further. "No no no! Don't send me there, see his knight there? Send the pawn, we can afford to lose the pawn!"

Christmas Eve, Harry and I retired to bed looking forward to the festivities that would take place the following day, neither of us expecting to receive any presents. We were quite surprised, however, to awaken the next morning to find a small pile of packages awaiting us at the foot of each of our beds. 

"Merry Christmas," Ron greeted sleepily as Harry and I scrambled out of our beds, each of us pulling on our bathrobes.

"M-Merry Christmas, Ron," I said, still unable to believe my eyes. "W-what, I, these, b-but -"

"We've got presents!" Harry finished in the same disbelieving tone as the one I had.

"Well, what did either of you expect, turnips?" Ron asked with a chuckle as he turned to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than my and Harry's piles combined. 

I seated myself by the foot rest of the bed I'd borrowed for the holidays (Neville's, I believe it was) and picked up the thick, brown paper parcel sitting at the top of my pile, where my name was scribbled across it in black lettering, over From Hagrid. I smiled to myself and unwrapped it, a roughly cut wooden flute rolling into my palm, which looked as though it had been whittled by hand by the giant himself. I looked at Harry, who held his own wooden flute and the two of us raised the instruments to our lips, blowing on the two of them, both of which made sounds similar to that of a couple of owls. 

A smaller, palm sized parcel waited for us next on Harry's pile, which held a note. I moved over to read over Harry's shoulder.

We have received your message and have enclosed both your Christmas presents. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the back of the note were a couple of fifty-pence pieces.

"W-well...erm....th-that's....friendly, I suppose?" I said, glancing at my best friend, who nodded his head in agreement. 

Ron was completely fascinated by the fifty pences.

"Is this money?" he said with wide eyes, "This is so weird! Just look at the shape!"

"You can have those if you'd like, Ron," I said with a smile while Harry chuckled at ow pleased Ron looked. "Let's see....we each got a gift from Hagrid and our aunt and uncle....now....who are these from?"

"I think I know who sent those," Ron said, his cheeks tinting pink as he pointed to a couple of lumpy parcels. "My mom.I told her the two of you weren't really expecting to get anything for Christmas and - oh no," He groaned, "she made the two of you Weasley sweaters."

Harry and I had opened the parcels to find a couple of thick, hand-knitted sweaters and a large box of homemade fudge each. Harry's sweater was emerald green, while mine was a deep crimson. I smiled and immediately pulled my bathrobe off to pull my sweater on. 

"She makes all of us a sweater every year," Ron said as he unwrapped his own, "and I always get maroon."

"That was really nice of her," I said with a smile as I joined the boys on the floor, feeling warm and comfortable in my new sweater, "Could you thank her for us, Ron, please?"

His blush seemed to deepen and he nodded.

My and Harry's next couple of presents also contained candy, as they were each a large box of Chocolate Frogs courtesy of Hermione. 

This only left one parcel each. Harry and I looked at one another as we picked them up and felt what could be beneath. It felt almost like cloth, very light and smooth. We ripped the parcels open.

Silvery gray met my vision as the cloth beneath flowed into my palms,feeling cool, fluid-like against my skin, almost like it was water that had been woven into material. I moved whatever it was up to inspect it in the light, waiting with fascination as the folds gleamed. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said breathlessly, speaking in a hushed voice, dropping his box of Every Flavor Beans from Hermione onto the floor. "If those are what I think they are. They're suppose to be really rare and really valuable."

"What are they?" Harry and I asked together, turning to Ron as Harry picked up his own shining, silvery cloth from where it had slid out onto the floor. 

"Those are invisibility cloaks," Ron said with awe in his gaze. "I'm sure they are - try them on."

Harry and I got to our feet and threw the cloaks around our shoulders, causing Ron to yell in delight. 

"They are! Look down!'

I glanced down and jumped in surprise; my body was completely gone, not a trace of it left behind. I quickly hurried to the body length mirror set up beside Neville's bed, surprised to see only my head suspended in midair while the rest of my body remained hidden under the cloak. I gulped and pulled the cloak up to cover my head as well and, sure enough, my reflection completely disappeared. 

"Hey Harry, Chey!" Ron said suddenly, "There was a note, a note fell out of Harry's cloak!"

Harry returned into view and hurried to Ron's side, seizing the letter that had appeared. I pulled my cloak off and went to his side, gently grabbing his arm to read what it said as well. The note was written in narrow, loopy writing neither of us had seen before. It said:

Your fathers left these in my possession before they died. It is time they were returned to the two of you. Use them well.

A very Merry Christmas to both of you.

It hadn't been signed. Harry and I stared at the note, then up at each other, exchanging ideas through eyesight alone for a moment. In the background we could hear Ron looking our cloaks over. 

"If I could get one of these for myself, I would give up anything," he was saying. "Anything. Hey, what's up?"

"It's nothing," Harry said, finally breaking our gaze to turn to Ron. I glanced at the note again, taking it from Harry with a frown, both of us feeling strange, wondering who could have possibly sent us these cloaks and if they had really once belonged to our fathers...Could it be one of our fathers' old friends? And how could they have possibly gotten them to us, or known where to send them at all?

I looked up at Harry and Ron, but before I could speak, the dormitory door flew open; Fred and George bounced in. Harry and I scrambled to stuff our cloaks out of sight, neither of us wanting to really share them with anyone at the moment.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry and Chey've got themselves some Weasley sweaters, too!"

Fred and George each had their own sweaters, both blue, one with a big yellow F, the other sporting a G.

"Harry and Chey's are better than ours, though," Fred said, leaning in to get a look at my sweater. My face warmed, but I tried not to back up. "I guess if you're not a part of the family, she puts in a little more effort."

"Hey, why aren't you wearing your sweater, Ron?" George demanded. "C'mon, put it on, these sweaters are nice and warm." 

"She knows I hate maroon...." Ron groaned half heartedly as he pulled his on over his head. 

"Neither of you have a letter on yours," George said as he looked Harry's over, "Hm, I guess she figures the two of you remember your names." 

Fred chuckled, "We're not stupid, though - we know we're Gred and Forge."

I covered my mouth to stifle my giggles, earning a grin from Fred, which made me blush lightly again and lower my gaze shyly. 

"What's going on in here?"

I squeaked and dove behind Neville's bed, peeking out around the corner to see Percy had poked his head through the door, frowning disapprovingly. Over one arm was slung his own lumpy sweater, indicating he'd still been in the process of opening his own presents. Fred seized Percy's sweater.

"It's P for prefect! C'mon Percy, put it on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I - don't - want -" Percy tried to protest as the twins forced the sweater on him, knocking his glasses askew. 

"And you're sitting with us today, not the prefects," George commanded. "Christmas is a time for family."

And with that, they frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The Christmas dinner Harry and I had that day was simply amazing. There were a hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters full of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, shined silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - there were even stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These amazing party favors weren't anything like those feeble Muggle ones that the Dursleys usually used, which usually only produced little plastic toys and flimsy paper hats. Fred persuaded Harry and I to each pull a wizard cracker and both of them went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed all of us in a cloud of blue smoke. When it cleared, we came across a rear admiral's hat, a beautiful plump lady's hat and seven live, white mice. At the High Table, we watched as Professor Dumbledore swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and laughed merrily at a joke he'd just heard from Professor Flitwick. 

The dessert that followed was flaming Christmas pudding. A silver sickle embedded in one slice almost broke Percy's teeth. Harry and I watched Hagrid as he drank deeply from his goblet, turning redder and redder with each mouthful until he finally kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek. Harry and I looked at one another in amazement as she giggled and blushed, her hat slightly lopsided. 

By the time Harry and I finally left the table together, we were both laden down with our own stack of things from the wizard crackers, which included a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a couple of hats, and even our own new wizard chess set. The white mice that had accompanied them had disappeared and I had a bad feeling that they may very well end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner. 

That afternoon, Harry and I spent some time with the Weasleys out on the grounds, having a furious snowball fight, then we retired back to the Gryffindor common room, cold, wet, and gasping for breath. We all sat comfortably around the fire, where Harry and I broke out our new chess set. Harry lost a few times to Ron, once after Percy had tried to help him and I'm happy to say I beat Ron once myself. 

After a simple dinner of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, Harry, Ron, and I were content to just sit and relax before bed, watching Percy chase Fred and George around the entire tower, playing keep away with his prefect badge. 

I could say with definitely certainty that night as I climbed into Neville's four-poster for bed that this had been my and Harry's best Christmas ever. But there still seemed to be something missing, something that tickled the back of my brain and wouldn't go away. It wasn't until I was free to let my mind wonder that I was finally able to pinpoint it: my invisibility cloak and who could have possibly sent it. 

Across the dorm, I could hear Ron snoring behind the drawn curtains of his own four-poster, but silence reigned to my left, indicating Harry was still awake, pondering the same things I was. I sat up, pushing back the curtain of my bed and reaching underneath to withdraw my cloak as Harry did the same.

I looked over the material, letting it slip over my palms and through my fingers, smoother than silk, lighter than air, as my mind wandered; my father's....a family heirloom....I chewed my bottom lip slightly in thought, letting out a slow breath as I turned my gaze from the shimmering material in my hand to my best friend, who sat on the edge of his own bed, lifting his gaze to mine at the same second. I could see in his eyes that the same thoughts swirled through his mind; that note had told us to use the invisibility cloaks well....we had to try them now. As one, the two of us rose from our beds and wrapped the cloaks around ourselves; a glance downward revealed only the moonlit stones I was standing upon. 

I smiled, glancing toward where Harry had disappeared, feeling my body jump start awake. With these cloaks, the whole of Hogwarts was open to the two of us, totally and completely. We could go anywhere we wanted without letting any of the teachers or staff know, especially Filch. 

A grunt from Ron drew my attention again and I paused, wondering for a moment if Harry and I should include him, but then I hesitated, chewing my bottom lip. The first time....using our fathers' cloaks for the first time....it should only be Harry and I, just for tonight. Just the two of us. 

"Chey, let's go," Harry whispered lowly as he passed by my bed, his muffled footsteps heading toward the dormitory door. I followed them, slipping past the door and down the stairs, where we crossed the common room and climbed out through the portrait hole. 

"Who's that?" The Fat Lady squawked as we pushed the portrait open. Neither Harry nor I said anything and headed down one of the corridors, only pausing when we reached a cross-road. Harry whispered for me to come closer and I did, gently gripping one side of his cloak and slipping under it while I pulled mine off. We spoke in hushed whispers about where we could possibly go, what places we could explore while we had our cloaks. Finally, it came to us; the library's Restricted Section! We could finally go in there and read as long as we wanted to finally find out who Flamel is! Nodding together, we drew his invisibility cloak closer around us and set off at a brisk walk in the direction of the library.

Pitch-blackness greeted the two of us when we arrived and I felt a shiver roll down my spine at the eerie feeling it brought with it. Harry found us a lamp to light to guide our way along the rows of books. With Harry holding it out before it, just outside the cloak, the lamp looked like it was floating along in midair, which caused another shiver down my spine at the creepy feeling the sight brought. 

Harry and I walked through the library to the Restricted Section in the very back, which was sectioned off by a length of rope across the doorway. We helped each other over it, then paused by one of the shelves, Harry holding the lamp up to read the book titles. 

There wasn't much to look at, as many of the golden letters were peeling, even those spelled in the words of different languages neither of us could understand. There was one book with a dark stain that looked terribly like blood. I gulped thickly and took a deep breath to stomp down my raising fear, sighing to myself, doing my best to ignore the faint whispering I was almost sure came from the shelved books. Pursing my lips slightly in thought, I stepped out from under Harry's cloak and walked off along the row, reaching up to run my fingers along each book's spine; living in such a dark closet for most of my life, I'd had to learn to read using my fingertips, like the blind learning Braille, so I was able to read with very little light, if only just a little. 

Turning a corner, I paused to run my fingers along the spines of the books on the other side of the shelf, mentally reading what they said; a majority of them were still in languages I didn't know, while others were without any titles. Those I could find that I could understand and I thought were interesting I pulled out and tucked against my chest to carry back over to the lamplight so I would be able to read them properly.

Suddenly a piercing, bloodcurling shriek split the air, which caused me to jump clear out of my skin, the books tumbling from my arms onto the floor as my hands shot up to cover my ears. My heart raced in my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best to block out the noise, even as it seemed to muffle itself. Breaking glass soon accompanied it and I moved my hands aside, my heart-rate spiking at the fast approaching footsteps just outside in the corridor. I quickly snatched my invisibility cloak from where it had dropped with the books, throwing them further along the aisle as I threw the cloak over myself before I bolted. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough to escape before Filch arrived and had to stop when I saw the caretaker blocking my way out, his pale, wild eyes looking right through me as he hurried into the library. I quickly stepped behind a bookshelf to avoid colliding with him, watching him hurrying toward the Restricted Section before I made my escape, streaking off down the corridor as fast as my legs could carry me.

I didn't stop until I was sure I was a good enough distance from the library, pausing to catch my breath as I glanced around at my surroundings to find out where I was. I'd been so preoccupied with trying to get away, I hadn't noticed where I'd been going until this very second and now I couldn't seem to recognize anything, although perhaps the darkness contributed to that as well. To my right was a tall suit of armor, but that was the only thing I could see within my range of vision. Gulping thickly, I chewed my bottom lip, wondering where I should go from here.

"You told me to come straight to you, Professor, if I thought someone was wondering around at night and someone was just in the library - Restricted Section."

The caketaker's soft, greasy voice made me freeze as my heart dropped into my stomach and all the color drained from my face. He must have known some kind of secret shortcut because his voice was slowly getting closer and closer to where I was standing and much to my horror, I heard Snape's quiet, cold voice reply, "The Restricted Section? Well then, they shouldn't have gotten too far, we'll be able to catch them." 

I stumbled backward until my back hit the cold stone wall, inwardly panicking; what do I do, what was I going to do?! Just up ahead, I could see the two of them round the corner and I tensed up even more, my panicking only getting worse; I was invisible, yes, but I was still very much solid and this corridor was very narrow, so it was an inevitability that they would run into me. 

"Oh Merlin help me!" I pleaded quietly. As though in answer to my prayers, I suddenly felt a hand grip my left wrist and gave a hard yank; I had to fight hard to hold in my yelp as I was pulled through a narrow doorway and into a darkened chamber, tripping on my cloak and falling against something, or someone, I could not see. But even though I couldn't see them, I knew immediately who it was. 

"Harry....?" I whispered quizzically when the sound of Filch and Snape's footsteps died away and I was able to let out a silent sigh of relief. The grip on my wrist loosened a little and there was a silent sigh of relief from next to me. He pulled his cloak off in reply and I pulled mine off as well, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. He hugged me back, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly, letting me know it was all right. When we pulled back again, we decided to see where we had ended up.

We were standing in what looked to be an unused classroom, with a large quantity of desks and chairs piled against the walls and an upturned wastepaper basket in the corner - and propped up against the wall we were facing was a large mirror that didn't look quite like it belonged.

It was a very magnificent mirror, as tall as the ceiling, framed in a gold ornate design, propped up on two clawed feet. Curved into the ornate frame at the top was an inscription: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi.

Panic fading with the threat of the teachers finding us, I took a few hesitant steps toward the mirror; Harry took my hand and followed me until the two of us stood directly in front of the mirror. Both of us tensed.

We whirled around, my heart roaring in my ears - w-w-what the -? H-hadn't there just been....? I was so sure I had seen a whole crowd of people in the room standing directly behind Harry and I in the mirror. But....the room was very much empty apart from the two of us. Glancing at each other nervously, Harry and I slowly turned back to the mirror.

Our reflections stared back at us,the color drained from our terrified-looking faces and, right behind us, just as before, were at least twenty others. I chanced another glance over my shoulder, but the room remained empty. Were they all wearing invisibility cloaks, too? Were we occupying a room with a bunch of invisible people that only this mirror could show us?

I returned my attention to the mirror and a woman standing directly behind me caught my attention. She gave a gentle smile and a wave. I cocked my head slightly at her, reaching my hand back just slightly to touch her; my fingers met air. There wasn't anyone there....she and those behind her only existed in the mirror. 

The woman was very pretty, with her long, straight black hair and warm, chocolate brown eyes. She had a very simple shape to her face, so....similar to mine. My eyes widened slightly and I shifted closer to the glass, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the surface. Tears glistened in her eyes, catching me by surprise; she was still smiling, but her eyes were slowly tearing up at the same time. A tall, skinny, dirty blond haired man stood beside her and he reached out to put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. He had a kind face, framed by long, wavy hair that curled at the ends just like mine. My vision blurred.

"Mom...?" I whispered softly. "Dad...?"

The two looked up at me, smiling gently, even as I turned to look at the rest of the figures behind us; about half of them were blurred, but those I could see, had a lot of features similar to my parents; there were a lot of them with with blue eyes, just like my dad, while others had brown; there was even a woman with the same shape to her face as mine. This...was my family!

The Powers all smiled and waved at me, warmly, lovingly; my eyes swam even more and my cheeks burned as the tears escaped. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, desperately wishing that I could fall right through it and reach them. I felt a mix of immeasurable joy, yet sadness at the same time. 

I couldn't even begin to tell how long I stood there, just staring at my family, relieved when they failed to fade away, even when I had to jolt back to reality at a distant noise, reminding me of the danger. I looked at my mother and father again, taking a few hesitant steps back to grab my invisibility cloak, "I'll be back, I promise." I whispered, throwing the cloak over myself and hurrying out of the room after Harry. 

~~~~~

"The two of you could have woken me up," Ron told us crossly the next morning.

"You could come with us tonight, Ron, Harry and I plan on going back. We want you to see this mirror." I told him with a reassuring smile. 

"I'd like to see your moms and dads," Ron replied eagerly with a grin. 

"Chey and I want to see all your family, too, all the Weasleys. Maybe you'll be able to show us your other brothers, too." Harry pointed out with his own smile. 

"Eh, you two could see them any old time," Ron said dismissively. "You both should come around my house this summer and you could meet them. Besides, maybe this mirror only shows dead people. It's a shame neither of you could find out anything about Flamel, though. Here, why aren't neither of you eating, have some bacon or something." 

I picked at my food absentmindedly, my mind far away, back in that unused classroom with the mirror; my parents, no, my family was in that mirror. The thought of Flamel hadn't even entered my mind since Harry and I had come across the mirror, the matter just...wasn't important anymore. Who really cared what was being hidden at Hogwarts, or if it was going to be stolen....? What did it really matter when, for the first time in my life, I'd finally met my parents, my family, my true family. 

"Hey, are you two alright?' Ron asked worriedly with a frown. "You both look odd..."

~~~~~~

The only thing Harry and I feared that night was that we wouldn't be able to find our way back to the mirror again and with the addition of Ron to our party, we were forced to go slower than we had the previous night. We tried retracing our steps from the library to the mirror room, but I knew that would be hard to do considering the two of us hadn't even been paying attention to where we were going in the first place and the darkness and cold that pressed in around us was not helping. We were all freezing by the end of the first hour of wandering the passageways. 

"I'm freezing," Ron finally hissed through chattering teeth. "C'mon Harry, Chey, let's just forget about it and go back to the dormitory."

"NO!" Harry and I growled back at him. "It's somewhere around here, we just know it."

We passed a ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but that was all we ran into. Ron started moaning about his feet being frozen with cold when we suddenly spotted the familiar suit of armor.

"There, it's here, right here!"

We pushed into the room and Harry and I threw our cloaks off, running toward the mirror. My mom and dad beamed at me as we came closer.

"See, they're there, just like last night!" I said excitedly, looking back at Ron with a big smile.

"I don't see anything...."

"Just look Ron, look at all of them, my family and Harry's, too, there are a ton of them!"

"I only see the two of you..."

"Here, come stand where we are, you'll be able to see in the mirror properly."

Harry and I moved aside so Ron moved into where we were standing; I couldn't see either of our families anymore, only Ron in his paisley pajamas, but I waited to see his reaction, surprised at the transfixed look on his face as he stared at his image. What could he be looking at that was so interesting? He couldn't be that transfixed by either my or Harry's family, could he? 

"Wow, look at me!" he exclaimed suddenly, a beaming smile breaking across his face. 

"Is your family all standing with you?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

"No - i'm alone - but I look different, older and I'm - I'm head boy!"

"What?"

"I have the badge on, just like Bill did when he was in school - and, I have the house cup and the Quidditch cup, too! I'm the Gryffindor captain!"

Ron managed to tear his eyes away from the images before him to look at Harry and I excitedly.

"Hey, do you think this mirror could show our futures?!"

I frowned at the idea before lowering my gaze, my eyes falling to the floor quietly, knowing that couldn't possibly be; all of my and Harry's family were dead, there wasn't any kind of future we could see with any of them in it. Harry and Ron arguing broke me from my thoughts and I quickly shook my head, looking at the two of them, seeing they were fighting over getting to look in the mirror. Their voices were raising and I inwardly panicked, knowing it wasn't a good idea for them to be arguing so loudly when we were already out of bounds, being out of bed so late at night. 

"Hey Harry, ron, c'mon, quiet it down, or we'll get ca -"

A loud noise sounded from the corridor, causing the three of us to jump and bringing an abrupt halt to their conversation. Well, at lest it shut them up!

"We need to go!" I whispered lowly, grabbing my cloak and throwing it over myself as Ron did the same for Harry and himself with his. Just seconds later, Mrs. Norris's luminous eyes peeked around the door. I froze in place, not even daring to breath, internally wondering if our cloaks worked on cats like they did on humans. After what felt like an eternity, she finally turned and left. 

"We should get back to the dormitory, it's getting too dangerous, she could have gone to get Filch. C'mon."

And with that, we hurried out of the classroom.

~~~~~~

Snow still laid thick on the ground the next day, as it should in the dead of winter. I watched the snow drifting on the breeze outside the window, my chin in my hand silently.

"Chey, Harry, do either of you want to play chess?" Ron asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

"No, thank you, Ron." I mumbled in my palm.

"Hey, how about we go down and see Hagrid, huh?"

"Not right now...."

"I know what the two of you are thinking about, Harry, Chey, that mirror. Neither of you should go back to it tonight."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know but I've got a really bad feeling about it and besides, the two of you have already had too many close shaves with that thing. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wondering around, they'll find you two eventually, even if they can't see either of you. They could walk into one of you, or maybe one of you could break something."

"You're starting to sound like Hermione." 

"I'm serious about this Harry, don't go, either of you."

I sighed, allowing my mind to drift off again, my mind wandering back to that classroom, to the mirror. Trouble was the last thing on my mind; I just wanted to see my family again and I wasn't going to let Ron or anyone else stop me. And, as I turned my gaze away from the window to look at my best friend, I could tell from his expression that he wasn't going to let anything or anyone stop him from achieving the same end. We were going. 

~~~~~~

It was a lot easier that night to get back to the mirror than it had been the previous two, although with how quickly we were walking, I know the two of us were making more noise than was probably wise, but neither of us cared. The fact that we didn't meet anyone was a turn in our favor as well, so the level of noise concern was pushed to the back of my mind. 

My parents were waiting for me, just as before, smiling brilliantly and waving, while one of my grandmother's smiled lovingly at me as well, cocking her head. I slid to the floor beside Harry, staring into the mirror, willing to just sit here all night and be with my family, all of them. There wasn't anything that could stop me.

Well, maybe -

"So, you've both come back, have you, Harry, Cheyenne."

The sudden voice made me jump, my hair spiking in fright as my heart stilled in my chest. Looking slowly at Harry for the first time since we'd entered the room, we exchanged panicked looks before turning as one to look behind us. Sitting on one of the desks pushed up against the wall was our headmaster. Harry and I, so desperate to get to the mirror to see our parents again, had apparently walked right past him without noticing him at all. 

"W-we....we didn't see you, sir..."

"It's rather strange how nearsighted you can be when you're invisible," Dumbledore said with a kind smile, which helped ease the tension from my shoulders, making me sigh in relief. Well, at least it looked like we weren't in trouble. 

"So," Dumbledore continued as he slipped off the desk to join Harry and I on the floor, "I see that the two of you, just as hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"That's it's name?" I asked quietly, cocking my head curiously.

"Yes it is and do either of you know what it does now?"

"It....well..." Harry looked at me quietly a moment in contemplation. "It shows us our families."

"Yes, but it also showed your friend Ron as head boy."

Harry and I blinked at each other in confusion before looking at our headmaster in wonder, "How did -?"

"I know how to become invisible without using a cloak," Dumbledore told us with a smile."With that in mind, can either of you think of what the mirror could show us all?"

I frowned deeply in thought, chewing my bottom lip as I glanced at the mirror again before returning my attention to the older wizard, shaking my head slowly. 

"Well then let me explain. A man with everything he could ever want would be able to look into this mirror and only be able to see his own reflection, like it was any ordinary mirror. Does that help at all?"

"So, this mirror....shows us whatever we want? Our heart's desire?" I asked him curiously, cocking my head just the slightest bit.

"Yes, something like that," Dumbledore said gently, patting my head. "This mirror is something that will show a person's deepest desire of their hearts. Since the two of you have never seen your families, you were able to see them standing around you both. Ronald Weasley, born sixth son to a family of achievers and overshadowed by all five of his brothers, sees himself standing above all of them. Men who have come across this mirror have wasted away in front of it, entranced by what they see or they'll even be driven mad, not knowing if what they see could be real or even possible. 

"Tomorrow, this mirror will be moved to a new home, Harry, Cheyenne and I want the two of you to promise not to go looking for it again. If either of you ever do find it again, at least now you'll be prepared. It doesn't do well if you dwell on dreams and completely forget to live, keep that in mind. Now, how about the two of you take those remarkable cloaks with you and get back to bed?"

Harry helped pull me back to my feet, but we paused, looking at Dumbledore again.

"E-erm, sir...could we ask you something?" I asked him curiously, cocking my head.

"You already have," Dumbledore teased with a gentle smile. "But you may ask me one more thing before you go."

"When you look into the mirror, what do you see?"

"What did I see? Hm, I can see myself with a pair of thick, woolen socks."

My eyebrows rose in question, but I didn't voice my questions aloud.

"One can truly never have enough socks," Dumbledore told us wisely. "And yet another Christmas has come and gone, but I have not been given a single pair. People always insist on giving me books."

It thought over what Dumbledore had said on the way back to the dorms, mulling it over in my mind and it wasn't until I was climbing back into Neville's bed that I realized he probably hadn't been very truthful in his confession. But, then again, the question we had posed had been kind of personal, so I couldn't really blame him for it.


	13. Nicolas Flamel

After that faithful night, Dumbledore had managed to convince Harry and I not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again and we spent the rest of the Christmas holidays with the Weasleys in Gryffindor Tower or out on the grounds having snowball fights, our Invisibility Cloaks kept folded at the bottom of our trunks all the while. Unfortunately for us, what we had seen couldn’t be forgotten quite as easily and it began giving us nightmares. We kept having dreams about our parents disappearing in a flash of green light while a high voice cackled joyously in the background. 

  
“See, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive anyone mad,” Ron told Harry and I when we confided in him about our dreams when talking about it with each other wasn’t quite enough. 

  
Hermione told a completely different view on things when she came back from her holiday the day before we were due to begin classes again. She was torn between horror at the thought of the two of us being out of bed three nights in a row and almost being caught by Snape and Filch, and disappointment that we hadn’t been able to find out anything about Nicolas Flamel.

  
We were almost at the end of our rope by this time and were on the verge of giving up any hope of ever finding anything in one of the library books, though Harry and I knew we had read his name somewhere. As soon as term had begun again, we were back to skimming through books during our breaks, although we were only able to take ten minutes at a time. The fact that Harry and I had Quidditch practice again gave us even less time to look than Ron and Hermione.

  
Our practices were particularly intense after the holidays and Wood seemed determined to work us as hard as he possibly could; the endless ice rain that had replaced the snow couldn’t even dampen his spirits. It wasn’t long until his behavior began getting to be on a bit on the fanatic side, causing the Weasley twins to start complaining, but neither Harry nor I could bring ourselves to argue with our captain. If our team lost our next match against Hufflepuff, we would be out of the running for the house championship and Slytherin would win for the eighth year in a row. Besides, Harry and I have come to find due to the physical taxation of the training we’ve had fewer nightmares, which was a big relief. 

  
Unfortunately for us, Wood had a bit of bad news for us which he ended up announcing during one particularly wet and muddy practice when he got angry at Fred and George for diving-bombing one another and pretending to fall off their broomsticks. 

  
“Will the two of you stop messing around?!” he yelled at them in frustration. “This is exactly the kind of thing that’ll lose us the match! Snape will be refereeing this time ‘round and he’ll look for any excuse to pick on Gryffindor!”

  
At this announcement, George really did fall off his broom.

  
“Snape’s going to referee?!” he spluttered around a mouthful of mud. “But he’s never refereed a Quidditch match before, why now?! We all know he’s not going to be particularly fair seeing as we could be overtake Slytherin!”

  
We all descended to land on the grass with George, the rest of the team complaining loudly as well. 

  
“Look, it isn’t my fault,” Wood said, trying to control the situation. “But anyway, we’ll have to make sure we play a nice clean game so we don’t give Snape any reason to pick on us.” 

  
Harry and I glanced at one another at those words, knowing that was all well and good, but having other reasons for not wanting to be near Snape while we were playing Quidditch. 

  
While the rest of the team hung back to talk to one another like they usually did after practice, Harry and I headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where Ron and Hermione could be found playing chess. Although Hermione was the smartest one of our group, chess was the one thing she seemed to lose at, which Harry and Ron thought was good for her.

   
“Just give me a moment,” Ron said when Harry and I took the seats next to him. “I need to be able to con –“ He broke off when he caught sight of the looks on my and Harry’s faces, watching for a moment as Harry leaned his head on my shoulder and I ran my fingers through his hair soothingly. “Hey, what’s the matter with you two, you both look terrible.”

  
Speaking in hushed tones, Harry and I recounted our news of Snape’s sudden desire to be a Quidditch referee. 

  
“Don’t play,” Hermione immediately suggested. 

  
“Pretend to be ill,” Ron interjected. 

  
“Pretend your legs are broken,” Hermione said.

  
“Really break them,” Ron said. 

  
“We can’t do that, though….” Harry sighed, lifting his head off my shoulder. “If both of us called out, there wouldn’t be any Seeker or reserve Seeker. If I was to get sick, Chey would’ve had to be the Seeker, but there’s no one to back it up if she was sick, too. If both of us back out, Gryffindor can’t play.”

  
The sound of the portrait hole opening caught our attention then and we turned to watch as Neville toppled into the common room, although it was a mystery as to how he had managed to climb through the portrait hole at all, seeing as how it looked as though someone had stuck his legs together with what could only be described as the Leg-Locker Curse. It looked as though he’d had to bunny hop just to get all the way back to Gryffindor tower. 

  
At the sight of the poor boy, everyone bust up laughing except for Hermione and myself. The two of us immediately leapt to our feet and hurried to his side, Hermione quickly performing the countercurse as I helped him to his feet and over to where we were sitting, holding the trembling boy up. 

  
“What happened?” Hermione asked as soon as he’d taken a seat, taking the chair I’d been occupying while I sat in Harry’s lap. 

  
“It was Malfoy…” Neville breathed. “I bumped into him outside the library and he said he’d been looking for someone to test the curse on…”

   
“You should go tell Professor McGonagall then, Neville!” I told him gently, squeezing his shoulder. “Report him!”

  
Neville shook his head quickly. 

  
“I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

  
“But you’ve got to stand up to him, Neville!” Ron said with a frown. “Look, Malfoy’s used to getting his way and walking all over people, but that doesn’t mean you have to make it easier for him by laying on the floor and letting him do it.”

  
“You don’t have to tell me I’m not brave enough for Gryffindor…Malfoy’s already covered that area,” Neville said in a trembling voice.

  
I sighed softly, rubbing Neville’s back soothingly as Harry shifted underneath me, searching through his pockets to pull out the last of the Chocolate Frogs Hermione had given him for Christmas. He handed it over to Neville with a reassuring smile, looking as though he was seconds away from crying. 

  
“C’mon, Neville, you’re worth twelve of Malfoy,” Harry told him in an encouraging tone. “Besides, the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, didn’t it? And where did it put Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin.”

Neville’s lips turned up in a weak smile as he unwrapped the Chocolate Frog.

  
“Thanks you guys…you know, I think I’m going to head up to bed…Here Chey, you and Harry can have the card, you’re both collecting them, aren’t you?”

  
I accepted the card with a grateful smile and watched him go while Harry took the card from me to see what it was, only turning to him again when he sighed. 

  
“We got Dumbledore again…” he said, showing me the card. “He was our first –“

  
Realization suddenly sparked in my mind as it unfolded over his features and Harry and I looked at one another with wide eyes. I took the card from Harry and turned it over as he turned quickly to Ron and Hermione, who were looking surprised and curious at our reaction. 

  
“We’ve found him!” Harry whispered dramatically as I lifted my head, quickly showing the two the card. “We told you we’ve read his name somewhere before, we read it on the way here on the train. Here, listen: -“ He gently took the card from me, flipping it around to read the back. “ ‘Particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, Dumbledore also discovered the twelve uses for dragon’s blood and is also recognized for his work in alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel’!”

  
Hermione immediately jumped to her feet at that, excitement written across her face clear as day, just as it had the second day of classes when we’d gotten our first pieces of graded homework back. 

  
“Stay here!” she breathed before she sprinted up the stairs to our dormitory, leaving Harry and Ron to exchange mystified looks before they glanced at me. I gave a one shouldered shrug in response just as she came running back down, clutching an enormous old book to her chest. 

  
“The thought to look in here never even crossed my mind!” she said in an excited whisper as she set the book down on the table and quickly flipped it open, “I checked it out weeks ago just for a bit of light reading.”

  
“This is what you consider light?!” Ron asked in astonishment, only to be shushed by Hermione as she flipped through the pages, murmuring quickly to herself as her eyes skimmed the pages. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. 

  
“Ha, I knew it!”

  
“Are we allowed to speak now?” Ron asked her grumpily, only to be promptly ignored as she put a finger to the beginning of one of the longer paragraphs and began to read it aloud in a dramatic whisper. 

  
“Nicolas Flamel is currently the only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone!”

  
My eyes widened at that as it registered in my mind and I clicked my fingers, opening my mouth to speak when the boys, who hadn’t quite caught on to how important something like this was, blurted out, ‘What?’ I sighed and hung my head for a moment, shaking my head and frowning at the two of them.

  
“You two really need to expend your reading material. Here Hermione, let me read it.” I held my hands out to take the book from Hermione, who slid it across to me. I pulled it closer and flipped it around so I could read it:

  
The main concern for the ancient study of alchemy leans toward the creation of the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance marked with extraordinary powers. Possessors of the stone will be able to turn other metals into gold and are able to live forever if they drink the Elixir of Life the stone produces. 

  
Although there have been many reports of the Sorcerer’s Stone over the centuries, there has only ever been one that had properly been documented, one that belongs to a Mr. Nicolas Flamel, noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, just recently turned six hundred and sixty-five, now currently enjoys a peaceful, quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

  
“Do the two of you understand now?” Hermione asked once I had finished reading, looking between the two boys. “That’s what the dog must be guarding, Flamel’s Sorcerer’s Stone! Since he and Dumbledore are such good friends, he probably asked him to keep it safe when he found out someone was after it, which was why he had the Stone transferred from Gringotts to here.”

  
“A stone that can turn other metals into gold and produces a potion that can make anyone immortal….” Harry breathed, looking around at the rest of us. “It’s no wonder why Snape’s after it, anyone would want something like that!”

  
“And it isn’t a wonder we couldn’t find Flamel anywhere in books on recent magical discovery.” Ron said with a sigh. “Someone who’s six hundred and sixty-five isn’t exactly all that recent, now are they?”

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
The next morning during our Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson while we were copying down different methods of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were having a silent discussion about what they would do if they had their very own Sorcerer’s Stones. Hermione and I each listened with half an ear to their discussion, continuing to write down the notes quietly. It wasn’t until I heard Ron mention that he would buy his own Quidditch team that I finally paused, glancing at Harry as the two of us suddenly remembered our dilemma in the upcoming match. 

  
“We’ve decided we’re going to play,” Harry told Ron and Hermione as I nodded along my agreement, sighing softly. 

  
“If we don’t, we’re going to make the Slytherins think that we’re afraid to face him…we have to show them we’re not.” I said, taking Harry’s hand under the table and squeezing it softy.

  
“Chey and I are going to do our best to win, so we can wipe those stupid smiles off their faces.”

  
Hermione and Ron exchanged a look before Hermione sighed softly, looking at the two of us with concern, “All right, if you’re both sure….I just hope we won’t be wiping one or both of you off the field…”

Both my and Harry’s nerves continued to grow over the coming weeks of the approaching match, although the two of us continued to reassure Ron and Hermione that we were both fine. The rest of the team wasn’t much better off; although the idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was a glowing prize at the end of the tunnel, there was still one very big obstacle we had to overcome in order to reach it. Would Gryffindor manage to do it with such a biased referee? 

  
And it make matters worse, over the weeks, Harry and I began to feel that, for one reason or another, Snape was following us, as we seemed to run into him more often then usual. It was a rather unsettling feeling, that he could be watching our every move, trying to catch us by ourselves and unawares, so much so that the two of us began to stick rather close, or, at least, closer, together than usual to the point that we were never more then a few feet apart from each other. Our weekly Potions lessons had turned into a demented kind of torture as Snape’s treatment toward the two of us seemed worse then usual, especially in Harry’s case. He couldn’t even take a step without the Potion master being right behind him, breathing down his neck, telling him he was doing something wrong. I was caught between terrified and angry at the behavior and I had to catch myself more then once before lobbing a frog’s bladder at his greasy head. The two of us soon began to wonder if perhaps Snape had found out we knew about the Sorcerer’s Stone, although we knew it was a very slim possibility…unless our suspicions were correct the man really could read minds…lovely….

From the look on both our friends’ faces on the afternoon of our Quidditch match as they wished us luck outside the locker room, Harry and I could tell that Ron and Hermione were already beginning to wonder whether or not they’d ever be able to see us walk off the pitch alive again. We weren’t even changed yet or even in the air. I took a deep breath as I sat beside Harry on the bench, pulling a brush through my hair before tying it up to keep it out of my face, still subconsciously staying close to my best friend as we got ready. Neither of us even really heard Wood’s usual pre-game pep talk as we gathered our Nimbus Two Thousands, glancing at one another quietly, communicating wordlessly just through eye contact in an effort to calm each other. Harry’s hand slipped into mine and he squeezed tightly, comfortingly, a gesture I returned softly, although the both of us continued to shake despite the reassurance, our eyes still locked. We would get through this together, so long as we stuck close and ended this game as quickly as we could, we would be all right. 

  
“Hey, Potter, Power.” Wood’s voice broke through our silent conversation and the two of us blinked, turning to look up at our captain as he motioned for the two of us to follow him to a corner. We did without question, looking up at him in question. His brows were furrowed as he regarded us, his lips set into a thin line as he took a deep breath, putting a hand on each of our shoulders, “Listen, I’m not trying to pressure either of you, but if there was ever a time when we needed a early capture of the Snitch, it would be today. Please, try to finish this game before Snape favors Hufflepuff too much.”

  
“Woah,” Fred said from the door, catching our attention as he leaned a little to peer up at the stands, “The whole school’s here. Even – cold blimey – Dumbledore’s here to watch!”

  
Harry’s hand tightened around mine as my somersaulted. 

  
“Dumbledore?” The two of us breathed, dashing to the door to confirm what the red-head had said. Fred hadn’t been lying, however, as we spotted the familiar glint off the headmaster’s silver beard high up in the stands where the teachers usually sat. 

  
I almost sank to the floor and cried in relief, knowing that with Dumbledore overlooking the match, there wouldn’t be any kind of chance for Snape to try anything on either of us. Apparently he knew this too, otherwise he wouldn’t be looking so foul about now, which I pointed out to Harry as we were matching across the field to meet him and the Hufflepuff team before we took off. He almost laughed aloud at the sight, but caught himself before he could, just contenting himself with a small smile as the team captains shook hands and we all moved to clamber onto our brooms.

  
“Remember, stick close Chey and tell me the second you spot the Snitch.” Harry whispered to me before we released my hand and we kicked off, hard, from the ground. I nodded my head, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline through my system as we lifted up into the air, the feeling of freedom that came with flying on the wind. I took in a deep breath of the fresh air, allowing it to work it’s way through my body before I leaned back, following Harry into the cyan sky overhead. The two of us stayed high above the match, facing in opposite directions to try and find the Snitch, circling the pitch from opposite sides to increase our chances of finding it faster. During our search, Snape had called two penalties, one because George had hit a Bludger in his direction and another for no apparent reason at all. 

  
By the second penalty, I was becoming frantic and I sped off along the pitch away from Harry to try looking for the Snitch over there, knowing getting that Snitch was more important than my own safety at this point. Something gold glistened in the sun then, my heart leaping into my throat at the sight, causing me to turn my head, my eyes widening. There it was! Just fluttering around Snape.  
“Harry!” I shouted out to himself, catching his attention while I gestured frantically toward the referee before streaking off in his direction. It didn’t take more than a second for Harry to realize what I was trying to tell him before the sound of his robes whipping the air grew louder, drowning out the gasps and cheers of the crowd. The Snitch whisked away from Snape, toward the ground, Harry spotting it seconds after it did. Snape turned and the two of us flattened ourselves to our brooms, jerking them sideways to send ourselves into a spiral, just missing him by inches. Harry thrust his arm out, his fingers closing around the ball of gold. We jerked our brooms back, pulling out of the dives, Harry’s arm in the air, the Snitch clasped tightly in his fist. 

  
The stands around us erupted in cheers as I threw my arms around my best friend, squealing happily. It was over, the match was over! This absolutely had to be some kind of record or something, a match couldn’t have lasted this long before today with the Snitch being caught so quickly. 

  
Harry wrapped an arm around me as he pulled us off our brooms, landing on the ground not one foot below, hugging me close and lifting me off my feet, “We did it, Chey, we did it, it’s over! We won, we won!”

  
“I know, now Gryffindor’s in the lead, we over took Slytherin!” I squealed, pulling back to smile brilliantly up at him as he set me back on my feet. Gryffindors were suddenly surrounding us, shouting excitedly and I was pulled away from Harry into hugs from our house mates, including Fred, who, to my immediate embarrassment, picked me up by the waist and spun me, shouting about how great Harry and I had done, how brilliantly we’d played. I was blushing brightly by the time he set me down again, thanking him for the praise, although I was ready to tell him it was really Harry who did it all when I felt Fred’s lips on my cheek. I squeaked loudly, covering my mouth as I looked up at him with wide eyes, only receiving a grin in reply, a blush touching his cheeks as well. Clearing my throat nervously, I rubbed my neck slightly, chewing my bottom lip. Thankfully, I was saved from further embarrassment by Harry, who pulled me back into the middle of the celebration with a happy shout. 

A little while later, Harry and I left the locker room together, just the two of us to take our Nimbus Two Thousands back to the broomshed, taking excitedly about our victory. Neither of us could remember a time when we’d ever felt happier or prouder of ourselves or each other. We weren’t just a pair with famous names anymore, no we had finally made something of ourselves, we had shown we were more then just two people who had done something amazing in the past that we couldn’t even remember. I took a deep breath of the evening air, finding it had a rather sweet edge to it today. The dew seeped into my shoes as we made our way across the grass, although I couldn’t find it in myself to care much, my mind still too filled with the memories of the last hour, which was still partly just a blur. Images of the rest of the Gryffindors running out onto the field to lift Harry and even myself onto their shoulders while Ron and Hermione cheered in the background, Ron pressing a cloth to his heavily bleeding nose. 

  
I sighed softly to myself as we reached the shed, leaning back together against the wooden door while leaning our heads back to look up at the towering structure of Hogwarts, it’s windows glowing red in the sunset. Gryffindor was in the lead, we’d done it, we’d stood up and faced Snape, showed him we weren’t afraid of him. 

  
Speaking of Snape…

  
Something caught the corner of my eye and I turned my head curiously, blinking as I spotted a hooded figure descending the front steps of the castle. I gently tugged Harry’s arm, pointing the figure out as it hurried across the lawn toward the Forbidden Forest, obviously not wishing to be seen. Both our smiles slowly slipped from our faces as our victory was momentarily forgotten as we recognized that prowling walk. Why was Snape sneaking out into the forest while everyone else was at dinner? What was he up to?

  
Glancing quietly at one another, Harry and I hopped back on our Nimbus Two Thousands and took off over the trees, looking down on the grounds until we saw where Snape entered. We followed without hesitation and circled the thick upper branches, drifting lower and lower, our feet just brushing the treetops until we heard the sound of voices. We glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. 

  
Climbing carefully down the branches with our broomsticks held tightly in hands, we tried to spot Snape or his companion through the leaves. 

  
Just below in a shadowy clearing Snape stood, speaking with none other than Quirrell! I caught myself before I could gasp out in astonishment, pressing a hand quickly to my mouth; from where Harry and I were perched, neither of us could see the look on Quirrell’s face, but his stuttering was worse then usual now. We leaned in to listen, straining to catch what they were saying. 

  
“…w-why y-y-you want t-t-to meet in a p-place like th-this, Severus…”

  
“I just wanted to be sure this would be kept private, that’s all,” Snape replied in an icy tone. “News involving the Sorcerer’s Stone is on a need to know basis, after all.”

  
The mention of the Sorcerer’s Stone quipped our interest and Harry and I moved forward curiously, wanting to hear more. Quirrell started to mumble something, but Snape interrupted him. 

 

“Have you been able to find out anything on Hagrid’s beast yet?”

  
“N-n-no, not y-yet –“

  
“You do not want to make an enemy of me, Quirrell,” Snape told him in a threatening voice as he stepped closer to him. Quirrell took a step back, gulping. 

  
“I-I don’t un –“

  
“I think you understand this all perfectly.”

  
An owl hooted from nearby, startling Harry and I, causing me to wobble unsteadily on my branch, but Harry’s arm secured around my waist, steadying me in time to hear Snape say, “ – bit of hocus-pocus. I’m waiting.”

  
“W-well, I-I, um, e-erm –“

  
“Very well then,” Snape cut him off with a growl. “But be aware that we shall be having another little chat soon, after a time when you’ve been able to think things through and have decided where your loyalites lie.”

  
Throwing his cloak over his head, he strode out of the clearing without another word. The darkness was gathering now as the sun sank lower behind the mountains, although it did little to mask the petrified expression left on Quirrell’s face. 

“Harry, Chey, where have the two of you been?” Hermione squeaked as soon as Harry and I had rejoined her and Ron inside. 

  
“We’ve won!” Ron shouted enthusiastically as he thumped Harry on the back, grinning happily as though he’d just become king of the world. “And I managed to give Malfoy a black eye, while Neville tried his hand at fighting Crabbe and Goyle, all by himself! He’s still out cold in the infirmary, but Madam Pomfrey said he’s going to be all right – talk about showing up Slytherin! Everyone’s upstairs waiting to celebrate our win; Fred and George got some food from the kitchens for us.”

  
“Oh, forget about that for right now!” I said breathlessly, waving a hand dismissively. “Come with us a moment, we have something important we need to tell the both of you straight away.”

  
Making sure Peeves wasn’t occupying the room already, Harry and I ushered Ron and Hermione inside and closed the door before turning to the two to tell them of what we had seen and heard.   
“Our hunch was right, it is the Sorcerer’s Stone that’s been hidden in the school and Snape is trying to force Quirrell to help him steal it. He even asked him if he knew how to get past Fluffy – then he said something about a lot of ‘hocus pocus’ – there are probably other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, probably loads of enchantments and even some anti-Dark Arts spell that Quirrell used that Snape needs to break through –“

  
“So….the two of you are saying the Stone is only safe so long as Quirrell can stand up to Snape?” Hermione said with wide, alarmed eyes. 

  
“It’ll be gone by the end of the week…” Ron muttered. 


	14. Norbert the Norweigian Ridgeback

In the weeks that followed what Harry and I had overheard, we were quick to discover that Quirrell had more bravery than we gave him credit for. Although he became thinner and paler with each passing day, he still seemed to be holding his own. 

Now, every time any of us passed the third floor corridor, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I would stop to make sure we could still hear Fluffy on the other side of the door. Snape, meanwhile, continued sweeping about the castle in his usual foul temper, which obviously meant he still hadn’t gotten the stone. And whenever either Harry or I saw Quirrell, we made sure to give him encouraging smiles while Ron told off anyone that tried making fun of his stutter. 

Other more important matters were on Hermione’s mind, however, than the Sorcerer’s Stone. With exams taking place in two and a half months, she decided it was time to start drawing up study schedules and color-coding all her notes, which she encouraged Harry, Ron, and I to do as well. 

“Aw, c’mon Hermione, the exams aren’t for ages yet!” Ron complained one evening after Hermione had nagged him and Harry about preparing their notes to study from while she and I were doing just that. 

“Ten weeks is not ages!” Hermione snapped irritably in reply. “That would be like a second to Nicolas Flamel.”

“Yeah, but the lot of us aren’t six hundred years old,” Ron pointed out with a frown. “Besides, what could the two of you need to possibly study for? You both know everything!”

“Are you insane?! Ron, you have to realize just how important these exams are, if we don’t pass them we won’t be able to move onto our second year! Honestly, I haven’t a clue what’s gotten into me lately, I should have started studying a month ago!”

The teachers apparently had the same idea as Hermione, as it didn’t take long for them to begin piling so much homework on us it was practically coming out of our ears during the Easter holidays. Hermione was so wrapped up in her studying it became rather difficult just to relax while listening to her recite the twelve uses of dragon blood in your ear or practicing wand movements right next to you. Most of our free time now was spent in the library just as before, except this time we were working through our extra work, Hermione and I trying to help Harry and Ron where we were able. 

“Merlin, I’ll never be able to remember this,” Ron finally groaned during one of our afternoon study sessions, throwing down his quill as he stared longingly out the library window beside us. It was beautiful out, the very first nice day we’d had in months, with the sky a perfect forget-me-not-blue, not a cloud in sight. The temperature seemed to be raising slowly, bringing with it a sense of impending summer. 

Busy helping Harry look up ‘Dittany’ in his One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi book, neither of us bothered to look up until we heard Ron speak again, “Hey Hagrid, what’re you doing here?”

Hagrid shuffled around one of the bookshelves into view, hiding something behind his back. He didn’t quite look as though he belonged in here, especially with his moleskin overcoat. 

“I was jus’ lookin’,” he said shiftily, catching our attention immediately. “So, what’re the lot of you up ter?” his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”

“No, we found out about him ages ago,” Ron said dismissively, “And we did find out what that dog’s guarding, too, the Sorcerer’s –“

“Shhhh!” Hagrid shushed quickly, glancing around to make sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot. “Don’ jus’ go talkin’ about it all casual like that, do yeh want someone ta find out about it?”

“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, though….” I said softly, setting my own quill down to focus solely on Hagrid, “we wanted to know what else aside from Fluffy is guarding the St –“

“SHHHH!” Hagrid shushed again. “Listen, why don’t the lot of yeh come see me later and we can talk. I ain’t promisin’ ta tell yeh anythin’, but I’m not gonna rabbit on about it here, students aren’ even supposed ta know about it. They’ll think I told yeh –“

“We’ll see you later, then,” Harry said with a nod. 

Hagrid nodded back and shuffled off.

“I wonder what he was hiding behind his back?” Hermione said thoughtfully, tapping her quill again her chin. 

“Think he was reading up on the Stone?” Harry asked, glancing at me quizzically. I shrugged. 

“I’ll go check out the section he was in,” Ron said, taking advantage of the distraction to get away from his work for at least a few minutes. He returned not a minute later with his arms piled high with books, which he slammed down on the table. 

“Dragons!” he whispered dramatically. “Hagrid was looking through the dragon’s section! Just look at these books: Dragon Species of Great Britian and Ireland; Growing From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide.”

“Didn’t Hagrid tell us he’s always wanted a dragon? From the first time we met him?” I said, glancing at Harry with quirked eyebrows. 

“Yeah he did….he said he’d always wanted a pet dragon….” Harry said with a frown.

“But having a dragon as a pet is illegal,” Ron said. “Breeding dragons became outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone in the wizarding world knows that.”

“He’s right, we couldn’t exactly keep the wizarding world a secret if we kept dragons chained up in the backyard – besides, dragons can’t be tamed, they’re really dangerous. Not only can they grow ten times bigger than us, they could breath fire and some even produce poison.” I pointed out with a grimace.

“There couldn’t possibly be any wild dragons in Britian, though…” Harry said with a frown. 

“Well of course there are. There are dragons like Common Welsh Greens and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a full job trying to keep them hushed up, believe me. They keep having to put spells on Muggles to make them forget they ever saw them.”

“So what on earth could Hagrid be up to?” Hermione murmured.

 

An hour later down at the gamekeeper’s hut, we were surprised to find all the curtains shut when we knocked on the door. Hagrid asked who we were before he let us inside, shutting the door quickly behind us. 

It was like an inferno inside. Although it was a rather warm day, a fire was blazing in the grate. Hagrid made us tea and even offered some stoat sandwiches, which we politely refused. 

“So – there was somethin’ yeh wanted to ask me?”

“Yes, there was,” Harry said honestly, knowing there wasn’t any point in beating around the bush. “We were just wondering if you’d be able to tell us what else, aside from Fluffy, could be guarding the Sorcerer’s Stone?”

Hagrid frowned at us and immediately shook his head. 

“O’ course I can’t,” he said. “First off, I don’ know anything about it meself and second, the lot o’ yeh already know too much, so even if I did know, I wouldn’t’ve told yeh. The Stone’s here fer good reason. It was a close enough call when it was almost stolen outta Gringotts, if all of yeh have figured that out, too. How you all found out about Fluffy, I’ll never know….”

“Hagrid….” I said softly with a soft smile, leaning forward a little to look gently up at him, making my voice warm, trying to use flattery, “We know you know, there’s nothing that goes on around here you don’t know.” Hagrid’s beard twitched a little, indicating a smile. “All we really want to know is who’s doing the guarding, we just want to know who else has been blessed enough to earn Dumbledore’s trust, aside from you.”

Hagrid’s chest swelled then and I caught Hermione, Ron, and Harry beaming at me out of the corner of my eyes. 

“Well, I s’pose it wouldn’t hurt ta tell yeh that…now, let me see…he’s borrowed Fluffy from me…then asked some o’ the teachers to do enchantments, like Professor Sprout…Professor Flitwick….Professor McGonagall….” He ticked them off on his hand, “Professor Quirrell….Dumbledore himself used an enchantment, o’ course. Oh, hang on, I forgot someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.”

“Snape?!”

“Yeah – oh, the four o’ yeh aren’t still on about him, are yeh? Look, Snape’s been one of the ones helping to protect the Stone, he’s not going to try and steal it.” 

I glanced at my best friends with a frown, knowing all three of them were thinking the same as me. If Snape was one of the teachers helping to protect the Stone, it must have made it easier to find out exactly what kind of charms the others had used to guard it. He probably knew how to get past each one, except, perhaps Quirrell’s and Fluffy. 

“So, you’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, right Hagrid?” Harry and I asked him softly in anxious voices, peering at him over our glasses. “You wouldn’t tell anyone about it, would you? Not even any of the teachers?”

“No one except me an’ Dumbledore know,” Hagrid told us proudly with a smile. 

“Well, that’s something,” Harry murmured to Ron, Hermione, and I. “Hey Hagrid, could we open a window? I’m dying.”

“Sorry, Harry, can’t,” Hagrid said, glancing toward the fire. Exchanging a look, Harry and I looked, too.

“Hagrid, what is that?”

Getting up for a better look, I crouched down to peer under the kettle, where a hug, black egg was nestled in the fire’s heart. 

“Ah, well…” Hargid mumbled nervously, fiddling with his beard. “Well….I can explain that…”

“Where did you get that, Hagrid?” Ron asked, crouching beside me next to the fire, trying to get a closer look at the egg as well. “This must’ve cost you a fortune!”

“I won it las’ night.” Hagrid told us with a smile. “I went down to the village ta have a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a hooded stranger. Ter be honest, he seemed quite glad ter get rid of it.”

“But Hagrid, what are you going to do when it hatches?” Hermione asked him with a concerned frown. 

“Well, I’ve been brushin’ up on my readin’,” Hagrid said, pulling a rather large book out from underneath his pillow. “I checked this outta the library this afternoon – Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s kinda outta date, true, but it has everything I need to know. I just need to keep the egg in the fire since their mothers will breath on ‘em, see, then I’ll need to feed it a bucketful of brandy and chicken blood every half hour. An’ it says here how ta recognize different kinds of eggs, the one I’ve got here is the rare Norwegian Ridgeback.”

His eyes sparked with pride and happiness, but Hermione didn’t look pleased. 

“But Hagrid, you live in a wooden house,”

Hagrid wasn’t listening, however, as he was too busy stoking the fire while humming a merry little tune under his breath.

 

Now that we knew Hagrid was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had a whole new problem to worry about: what could happen if someone were to find out about said dragon. 

“I wonder what it’s like to have a peaceful life?” Ron sighed during one of those long evenings we were stuck in the library or up late in the common room, struggling through our extra homework. By this time, Hermione had started drawing up study schedules for him and Harry, which had started to drive them nuts. 

Then during breakfast one morning, Hedwig flew in with another note from Hagrid. There were only two words written on it: It’s hatching!

Ron was all for skipping Herbology to go straight down to Hagrid’s hut to watch the egg hatch, but Hermione would hear none of it. 

“Hermione, how many chances in our lives would we get to see a dragon hatching?”

“If we skip our lessons to go, we’ll get into trouble, which will seem minor compared to what could happen to Hagrid if anyone were to find out –“

“Shh!” I shushed hastily, glancing in Malfoy’s direction. He was just feet from us, standing with his head cocked so his ear was inclined toward us. How much could he have possibly hear? The look on Malfoy’s face was really disconcerting. 

Hermione and Ron continued to argue the entire way down to Herbology, where she eventually agreed we could run down to Hagrid’s during our morning break. As soon as the bell resounded from the castle, we immediately dropped our trowels and hurried through the grounds toward the hut. Hagrid ushered us inside, flushed with excitement. 

“It’s almost out,” He breathed excitedly.

The egg had been moved from the heart of the fire to the middle of the table. Deep cracks were now decorating the thick outer shell of the egg while something moved inside, a strange sort of clicking noise coming form within. 

Pulling our chairs up close to the table, we watched with bated breath. My hand subconsciously slid into Harry’s and he squeezed tightly.

Suddenly a loud scraping noise erupted from the egg and it split in two. The baby dragon within flopped onto it’s back on the table, looking like a crumpled, black umbrella. It spread it’s spiny wings, huge now compared to it’s skinny jet black body, it’s snout elonged with wide nostrils. A pair of stubby horns grew from the top of it’s head and when it looked up at us, it was with bulging, orange eyes. 

It sneezed, causing a couple of sparks to come from it’s snout. 

“Oh, isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid breathed happily, his black eyes glistening with unshed tears as he reached a hand out to stroke the baby’s head. It snapped at his fingers with pointed fangs. 

“Oh bless him, he knows his mommy!” Hagrid beamed. 

“Hagrid…” Hermione muttered, glancing anxiously at the rest of us as she addressed him, “Just…just how fast does a Norwegian Ridgeback grow exactly?”  
Hagrid opened his mouth to answer when he suddenly froze, the color leaving his face faster than Harry and I had caught the Snitch during our last Quidditch game. Before any of us could ask what was wrong, he was on his feet and was rushing to the window. 

“What is it?”

“Someone was lookin’ through the gap in meh curtains – it’s a student, runnin’ back up ter the castle.”

Harry and I bolted out of our seats to the door and stood on the porch together, looking up toward the school; there was no mistaking who it was, even at such a distance.

Malfoy knew about the dragon. 

 

The smug smile Malfoy wore over the following week was very unnerving and frightening at best. And it was because of that smirk that now Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I spent all of our free time down in Hagrid’s hut trying to reason with him. 

“You have to give him up, Hagrid, it isn’t safe here,” I told him softly, putting a hand on his arm. “You have to let him go, set him free.” 

“But I can’t…” Hagrid argued. “I can’t just send him out into the wild now, he’s too young to take care of himself.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I looked at one another quietly before switching our gaze to the dragon. He had grown three times in size since he’d hatched just a week ago and smoke kept furling out of his nostrils. Due to having to take care of the baby, Hagrid hadn’t been taking care of his normal gamekeeping duties. Already the floor was littered with empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers. 

“I decided to name him Norbert,” Hagrid said, positively beaming at the dragon. “He really seems to know me now, look. Norbert! Where’s Mommy?”

“Off his rocker, he is,” Ron muttered to Harry and I.

“Erm, Hagrid,” Harry said, loud enough to try and get the giant’s attention, “you know in just two weeks, Norbert will likely be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any time.”

Hagrid chewed his bottom lip, frowning. 

“I…I know I can’t keep him forever, but….it’s just, I…I can’t just send him off on his own, I just can’t…”

An idea popped into my head then and I glanced at Harry for a moment before looking at Ron. 

“Charlie,” we said together. 

“You’re both off your rockers now, too!” Ron said indignantly. “I’m not Charlie, I’m Ron, remember?”

“No – no, we mean your brother, Charlie, in Romania, studying dragons. We could ask him to take Norbert and take care of him until he’s old enough to take care of himself in the wild!”

“That’s brilliant!” Ron said with a grin. “What about that, Hagrid, think we could give it a go?”

Although hesitant about it at first, it didn’t take long for Hagrid to finally agree that we could send an owl to Charlie to ask. 

 

The next week dragged by agonizingly slow. On Wednesday, Hermone, Harry, and I could be found sitting by ourselves in the common room, long after the rest of our house had gone to bed. The wall clock behind us was just chiming midnight when we heard the portrait hole open. Ron came into view just seconds later, folding Harry’s Invisibility Cloak over one arm. He’d just come from Hagrid’s hut, where he’d been helping to feed Norbert, now eating crate after crate of dead rats. 

“He bit me!” he said angrily, showing his injured hand, now wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I won’t be able to hold a quill right for a week because of this! Honestly, that dragon is the most horrible animal I have ever or will ever meet. If you ask Hagrid, though, he acts like it’s a cute fluffy bunny. He told me off for yelling at it after it bite me. And he was singing it to sleep by the time I left.”

He flopped down on the couch with a sigh just as there was a tap on the dark window. 

“It’s Elon!” I said, hurrying to the window to let him inside. “He’s bound to have Charlie’s answer!”

Sitting on the couch together, the four of us put our heads together to read the nose.

Dear Ron,

How have you been? Thanks for sending me your letter – I’d be more than happy to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but I’m afraid it won’t be that easy to get him to Romania. Thankfully, I have some friends coming to visit me next week, so it would probably be best if you send him with them. We just have to be sure they aren’t seen carrying an illegal dragon. 

Would all of you be able to bring the Ridgeback up to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They’ll meet you there to take him while it’s still dark. 

Just send me an answer as soon as possible.

With Love, 

Charlie

We all looked at one another with identical frowns. 

“We’ve got our Invisibility Cloaks, we could use them to get Norbert to the North Tower.” I pointed out, looking at Harry.

“She’s right, it really shouldn’t be too difficult. Both could cover all of us, plus Norbert.” He said with a nod. 

It really spoke volumes of how badly our week had gone with how readily Ron and Hermione agreed with us. We needed to do this, to get rid of Norbert and Malfoy, too. 

 

We had a hitch. By the next morning, Ron’s injured hand was swollen to twice its normal size. None of us knew whether it would be safe for him to go to Madam Pomfrey or not as none of us knew if she would be able to recognize a dragon bite. By the time afternoon rolled around, however, he had no other choice, as the cut was turning a rather nasty shade of green, indicating Norbert’s fangs could be poisonous. 

When our lessons ended for the day, Harry, Hermione, and I hurried up to the hospital wing to check on Ron, where we found him in a right state in bed. 

“I’m not just worried about m hand,” Ron said sadly. “Although right now that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy came by to laugh at me….told Madam Pomfrey he just wanted to borrow one of my books. He kept threatening to tell her the truth about what had bitten me – I keep telling her it was a dog, but I don’t really think she believes me – I shouldn’t’ve landed that blow on him at the Quidditch match, it’s probably why he’s doing this.”

Harry, Hermione, and I did our best to calm Ron down, knowing it would not be best for im to get so excited right now. 

“Don’t worry, Ron, everything will be over at midnight on Saturday,” Hermione said soothingly, although this did little to placate him. He sat straight up then, his eyes wide as he broke out into a cold sweat. 

“Saturday at midnight!” he said hoarsely. “Oh Merlin, no, I’ve just remembered – the book Malfoy took has the letter from Charlie still in it, he’ll find out about us getting rid of Norbert.”

None of us got the chance to respond to this, as Madam Pomfrey decided then to come over and tell us to leave, saying Ron needed to rest. 

 

“It’s too late to change anything now,” Harry pointed out to Hermione and I later that night in the common room. “We have to carry through with it, there isn’t time to send Charlie another owl and besides, this could be our own chance to rid ourselves of Norbert. We have to take the risk. Besides, Malfoy doesn’t know about our Invisibility Cloaks, so it’ll make it easier to get past him.”

When we went down to tell Hagrid about this, we found Fang the boarhound tied up outside with his tail bandaged up. Hagrid, meanwhile, could only open a window to talk to us. 

“I can’t let any of you in,” he huffed. “Norbert’s at a bit of a tricky stage, but it’s nothin’ I can’t handle.” 

We told him about Charlie’s letter, watching as his eyes filled with tears, although whether it was from the news or from Norbert biting his leg, we didn’t know. 

“Ah, n-no, it’s – it’s all right, he’s only got my boot, he’s jus’ playin’. He’s jus’ a baby, he doesn’t know any better.”

The windows rattled as the baby banged his tail against the wall. Harry, Hermione, and I exchanged glances as we returned to the castle, silently agreeing that Saturday could not come sooner. 

 

If we weren’t so worried about what we had to do, we would have felt sympathy for Hagrid when it was time for him to say good-bye to Norbert. Thankfully for us it was dark out that night, a little overcast. We arrived at Hagrid’s hut a little later than we said due to being held up in the entrance hall by Peeves, who’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert ready for us in his crate.

“I’ve packed him plenty o’ rats an’ brandy fer his trip,” Hagrid sniffled, his voice slightly muffled by his handkerchief. “An’ I also packed his teddy bear so he won’t be lonely.”

Loud ripping noises came from within the crate, indicating teddy was probably getting his head ripped off about now. 

“Bye-bye Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed as Harry, Hermione, and I covered his crate with my Invisibility Cloak before covering ourselves with his and stepping under the crate. “Mommy will miss you! She won’t ever forget you!”

How we managed to get the crate all the way back up to the castle, none of us would never know. I kept a close eye on my watch, watching midnight tick nearer as we heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and through the dark corridors. We climbed staircase after staircase, panting as we did – not even one of my or Harry’s shortcuts made things any easier. 

“We’re almost there,” Harry panted as we travelled down the corridor beneath the tallest tower. 

A sudden movement just ahead of us made us pause and we almost lost grip on the crate. Forgetting we were invisible, we quickly shrank back into the shadows, watching the dark outline of the two people at the other end of the corridor grappling with one another. A lamp flared, revealing Professor McGonagall dressed in a tartan bathrobe and hair net holding Malfoy by the ear. 

“That is detention!” she growled angrily. “And twenty points from Slytherin! How dare a student think they can just wander about the school in the middle of the night as they please –“

“Professor, you have to listen to me, please. Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power are coming, they’ve got a dragon!”

“What complete and utter rubbish, how dare you spout such lies! Come along, I will see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!”

After witnessing something like that, climbing the steep spiral staircase seemed like the easiest thing in the entire world. We didn’t remove either cloak until we’d stepped out into the cold night air, sighing gratefully at the chance to breath. Hermione began to dance.

“Malfoy’s in detention, I could just sing!”

“I wouldn’t, at least, not here,” I said with an understanding smile and a giggle, very much tempted to join her in her dance and to sing aloud in victory. After all, it wasn’t every day that we were able to take care of our problems at once, leaving us feeling very much accomplished; not only were we getting rid of Norbert and keeping Hagrid out of jail, but Malfoy’s plan had backfired on him and he was getting detention for trying to get us in trouble. Tonight was a very good night for all of us. 

The next ten minutes passed with the three of us chuckling over Malfoy’s punishment while Norbert thrashed around inside his crate until we noticed four broomsticks swoop down out of the darkness and join us at the top of the tower. 

The four wizards were a very cheerful, friendly lot, who were more than happy to show Harry, Hermione, and I the harness they would be using to carry Norbert, which would suspend him between all four of them. We all worked together to buckle the crate in safely before we moved back again, shaking the men’s hands and thanking them immensely for helping us.

We moved to the edge of the tower to watch them leave, our chests becoming lighter as they shrank into the distance until they were gone, each of us giving great sighs of relief at the knowledge that the dragon was out of our lives for good and would no longer interfere. We were so happy as we slipped back down the spiral staircase, whispering excitedly to one another as we did, unbelievably happy at the wonderful turn of events this night had brought. There was nothing that could possibly spoil this moment, none at all. Fortunately, I spoke a little too soon….

As we were reaching the foot of the stairs and stepping out into the corridor, Filch’s sneering face suddenly loomed out of the darkness, making all three of us freeze, the blood freezing in our veins.

“Well, well, well,” he whispered with a snicker, “Aren’t we in trouble?”

We’d forgotten our Invisibility Cloaks on top of the tower.


	15. The Forbidden Forest

Things had gone from good to bad so quickly I almost felt as though I had whiplash.

We were taken down to Professor McGonagall’s study on the first floor by Filch, where we had to sit and wait for her to arrive, none of us saying a word. Hermione was trembling; I was no better. My body shook heavily with fear and shame at being so careless after our victory, which had led to our forgetting the Invisibility Cloaks on the top of the tower. What could we possibly say to Professor McGonagall to explain why we were out of bed at midnight, skulking about at the top of the tallest Astronomy Tower, which was only to be used for class. If we told her about Norbert and the Invisibility Cloaks, we were sure to be packing our bags shortly. 

Harry’s hand subconsciously slid into mine, giving a tight squeeze, which I returned quietly just as the door opened, revealing a worse sight than I ever thought I’d see; Professor McGonagall leading Neville into her office by the ear. 

“Harry! Cheyenne!” Neville breathed as soon as he saw us, looking somewhat relieved, although still somewhat ashamed at the same time, “I did my best to find the two of you so I could warn you about Malfoy, I overheard him saying he was going to catch the two of you, going on about you having a drag –“

I shook my head so fast I got a bit dizzy and gave myself a headache as I tried to tell Neville not to say another word, but Professor McGonagall caught it, her eyes tightening angrily at the sight as her lips pursed into a thin white line. She looked very much closer to breathing fire than Norbert had been as she towered over the four of us. 

“I had never believe it of any of you. Mr. Filch has just informed me of you three,” she gestured to Harry, Hermione, and I, “being up in the astronomy tower at one o’clock in the morning. Explain yourselves this instant!”

Hermione looked at a loss for words, unable to answer a teacher’s question as she normally would be able to. She stared at her slippers quietly, still as a statue. 

“I think I have a pretty good idea of what has been going on around here,” Professor McGonagall said after a moment. “Really, it wouldn’t take a genius to work it out. You all fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story of a dragon to get him out of bed and into trouble, well let me tell you, I’ve already caught him. I suppose you all thought it would be a good laugh to get Longbottom in on it, too?”

I glanced anxiously at Neville, telling him through eye contact that that simply was not true, trying to dispel the stunned, hurt look on his face. Poor Neville, he had only been trying to help us out at great personal risk to himself. 

“I am simply disgusted,” Professor McGonagall fumed. “Five students out of bed all in one night, never have I seen such a sight! I expected better of you, Miss Granger, Miss Power. And as for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you. All four of you will receive detentions – and yes, that includes you, Mr. Longbottom, nothing, absolutely nothing gives you the right to walk freely about the school at night, especially nowadays, it’s dangerous – and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.”

“Fifty?” Harry gasped as my heart dropped into my stomach – if we lost fifty points, Gryffindor would lose it’s lead, the lead both Harry and I had worked so hard to get us at our last Quidditch match. 

“Fifty points each,” Professor McGonagall said, her nostrils flaring dangerously. 

“B-but Pro-Professor –“

“You can’t –“ 

“You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do, Potter. Now, I want all four of you to get back to bed this instant. Never have I been more ashamed of Gryffindor students.” 

Two hundred points, gone. That now put Gryffindor in dead last. All in one night we had managed to ruin any chance that Gryffindor had of winning the house cup. It felt like my heart had fallen through a bottomless black hole in my stomach. How would Harry and I be able to make up for this? 

I couldn’t sleep a wink that night. From the bed to my right, I could hear Hermione tossing and turning, soft, stifled sobs escaping her every once in a while. I couldn’t think of anything to say or do to make her feel better. I wasn’t looking forward to the morning, when the rest of Gryffindor house found out what we had done. 

The next day, anyone passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points stopped to do a double take, thinking there must have been some kind of mistake. None of them could understand how Gryffindor could be two hundred points behind now when just yesterday we were in first place. However, it didn’t take long for the story to eventually get around about Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power, the champions of the last two Quidditch matches, losing all those points for their house, with the help of a couple of other first years. 

In one day, the two of us went from being the most popular and admired couples in the school to the most hated. Not even the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs would talk to us; they’d been looking forward to seeing Slytherin lose the house cup after so long just as much as we Gryffindors were. No matter where we went, people would always point and talk to one another without bothering to lower their voices as they insulted us. The only thing that made this worse was the fact that the Slytherins were now clapping and cheering for us, “Thanks Powter, we really owe you one!”

Ron was the only one who stood by us. 

“Don’t worry, everyone’ll forget about all this in a few weeks. Fred and George’ve lost Gryffindor tons of points in the three years they’ve been here and people still really like them.” 

“Yeah, but have they ever lost two hundred points all in one go?” I pointed out to him miserably. 

“Er…no…” Ron admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Although too late to repair the damage we had already caused, Harry and I made a pact between us that we wouldn’t meddle in anything that wasn’t our business anymore. We wouldn’t sneak around or do any spying anymore. We even felt so ashamed of ourselves, we went to Wood that same day to resign from the Quidditch team. 

“Resign?!” Wood demanded with a frown at the two of us. “What good’ll resigning from the team possibly do? What would the purpose of that be if we can’t win back the points we’ve lost?” 

Not even Quidditch could bring either my or Harry’s spirits up, though. Even those on the team were so disappointed and angry at us that they wouldn’t speak to either of us during practice and if they absolutely had to, they called us ‘the Seeker’ and his ‘Helper’.”

As for Neville and Hermione, although they didn’t have it as bad as either Harry or I did, they were suffering, too. No one wanted anything to do with them, either. Hermione had even stopped drawing attention to herself in class, deciding to just keep her head down and work silently. 

The upcoming exams were a welcome distraction, as it kept Harry and I from thinking too much about our current situation and stewing too much over our misery. The two of us, along with Ron and Hermione, kept mostly to ourselves, working in a corner of the common room late into the night, trying to memorize the ingredients in complicated potions, the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions, learn the movements necessary for charms and spells,

Unfortunately, just a week before our exams were due to begin, my and Harry’s new resolution was put to the test. Heading back to the common room from the library one afternoon while going over the ingredients for one of our more complicated potions, the sound of someone whispering from within a classroom just up ahead caught our attention, stopping our conversation. Glancing at one another with raised eyebrows, Harry and I moved closer to the door, catching a sample of Quirrell’s voice from within. 

“No, please – please – n-not again –“

From what we could hear, it sounded like Quirrell was being threatened. Frowning further, Harry held an arm out to push me behind him as we moved closer. 

“A-all right – all right, I-I’ll do it, ju-just please –“ Quirrell sobbed softly. 

The door swung open and Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, hurriedly straightening his turban. Paler than usual and looking on the verge of tears, he didn’t take the time to check his surroundings before he hurried off down the corridor, not even noticing either Harry or I standing just outside the classroom door. Waiting for a moment until we were sure we couldn’t hear Quirrell’s footsteps anymore, Harry and I peered around the doorway into the classroom. It was empty, but at the other end of the room, another door stood ajar. We slipped inside and started toward it, only to stop when we remembered the promise we had made to ourselves and each other. 

And yet…

Looking up at Harry, I grabbed his arm and pulled him quickly out of the classroom back toward the library, ready to bet anything that it had been Snape that had been threatening Quirrell, again, and that the nervous man had finally given in to the Potion Master’s wishes. 

Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy when we rejoined them and Harry and I hurriedly told them what we had overheard. 

“Snape’s finally done it, then” Ron said with wide eyes. “If Quirrell’s finally told him how to get past his Anti-Dark Force spell, then –“

“He’d still have to get past Fluffy, though…” Hermione pointed out. 

“Well…maybe Snape’s found a way to get past him without having to ask Hagrid,” Ron said, glancing up at the shelves surrounding us, stocked with thousands upon thousands of books. “Maybe there’s a book somewhere around here that will tell someone how to get past a giant three-headed dog…What do the two of you think we should do, Chey, Harry?”

The familiar light of adventure was rekindling in Ron’s eye, but Hermione answer before either Harry or I could get the chance. 

“The two of you should go to Dumbledore, it’s what we should have done in the first place, once we knew what was going on. If we try to do anything ourselves, then we’ll be sure to be expelled this time around. 

“We know that Hermione,” I snapped, plopping down in a nearby chair with a size and covering my face with a hand, squeezing my eyes shut. “The only problem is, we haven’t exactly got any kind of proof…”

“Chey’s right…” Harry sighed, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder and squeezing it tightly, a reassuring pressure. “And even if we did try to ask Quirrell to back us up, he’d be too scared to and Snape would only have to deny knowing anything about how the troll got in on Halloween and about being near the third floor the same night – Dumbledore will be more likely to believe him over us, wouldn’t he? We haven’t exactly kept it to ourselves about how much we hate Snape, that’d be enough to make them think we’re only trying to get him sacked. And if we tried to get Filch on our side, he wouldn’t do it, probably think the more students get expelled, the better, besides he’s in too deep with Snape himself. And anyway, we’re not supposed to have any idea about any of this, the Stone or Fluffy. If we go to Dumbledore or anyone else, it would take a lot of explaining, especially if we don’t want to get in anymore trouble than we already are or if we don’t want Hagrid to get into trouble himself.”

Hermione furrowed her brows in understanding, while Ron did not look satisfied. 

“Maybe if we just do some more poking around –“

“No!” Harry and I said flatly together as I lifted my head, frowning at Ron, “all of us have done enough poking around.”

With that, Harry took the seat beside me and we pulled a map of Jupiter toward us, beginning to quiz each other on the names of all its moons. 

 

The next morning, Harry, Hermione, Neville, and I received notes during breakfast. They all said the same thing:

Your detention will be tonight at eleven o’clock. All of you are to meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall. 

Professor McGonagall

With everything that had happened the last couple of weeks, I had completely forgotten about the detention we still had to serve in addition to the points we had lost for Gryffindor. I glanced at Hermione, almost expecting her to complain that this could be a whole night of studying lost, but she was surprisingly silent as she sighed and slipped the note into her bag, knowing just as much as Harry and I, she felt this is what we deserved for what we’d done. 

That night at exactly eleven o’clock, the three of us bid Ron good-bye in the common room and left for the entrance hall with Neville. Filch and Malfoy were already waiting for us. Oh yeah, Malfoy had gotten into trouble as well, just before we had. 

“You five, follow me,” Filch said as he lit the lamp in his hand and lead us outside. 

“I bet after tonight the lotta yeh’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, now won’t you?” he said with a leer in our direction. “Oh yes, the best teachers in my opinion are always hard work and pain…really just a pity that they let our old punishments die off….if you got in trouble twenty years ago, you would’ve been hung from the ceiling by your wrists for a few days. I still have the ol’ chains in my office, well kept and oiled just in case they’re ever needed…Well…enough sentimentalities, we should be off and don’t any of you think about running off, you’ll just make it worse for yourselves if you do.”

We marched across the darkened grounds as one. Neville kept sniffling from the back of the back of the group. I looked quietly at Harry, who took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, smiling weakly at me out of the corner of his mouth, although it couldn’t hide the fact that we were obviously wondering the exact same thing: what in the world was our punishment going to be and why would we be leaving the castle in order to have it? It had to be something really horrible if Filch was sounding so delighted about it. 

The moon shone down brightly on us from the sky overhead, clouds sliding across the sky to obscure it’s view now and again, which threw our group into shadow. Just ahead of us, we could see the lights of Hagrid’s hut drawing closer. We were just a few yards away when we heard a familiar shout. 

“Filch, is that you? Hurry it up, I want ter get this started.”

My heart rose a little from the pit in my stomach as my hope rose; if we were going to be spending our detention with Hagrid, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. The relief must’ve showed on my and Harry’s faces, because Filch spoke up again, “I suppose just because you’ll be spending your detention with that oaf, you two’re thinking you’ll be enjoying yourselves, hm? Well, you’d both better think again, because the lot of you will be heading into the forest tonight and you’ll be lucky to come back out in one piece.”

Neville moaned sadly while Malfoy froze in his tracks. 

“The forest?” he repeated in a shocked, squeaky voice, very much unlike the cool, collected one he usually used when around his friends. “You’ve got to be joking, we can’t go in the forest at night – there’s all kind of creatures in there – I even heard there are werewolves!”

Neville whimpered loudly and clutched at the back of Harry’s robes, gulping loudly and staring wildly around as though he thought we were going to be attacked at any moment.

“Well, that would be your own problem, now wouldn’t it?” Filch sneered gleefully, smirking at Malfoy in satisfaction at the scared look that flashed across his face. “I guess the lotta yeh should’ve thought of ‘em werewolves when you were breaking the rules, shouldn’t yeh?”

Hagrid strode told us at that moment, his large figure a shadow in the night. Fang bounded up behind him, panting excitedly. Hagrid was carrying a large crossbow with a quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder. 

“It’s abou’ time,” he said, his black beetle eyes glistening down at us from the shadows enveloping his face. “I’ve bin waitin’ fer yeh fer a half hour alread. Yeh all right, Harry, Cheyenne, Hermione?”

“I wouldn’t be too friendly with this lot if I were you, Hagrid,” Filch told him coldly, “they’re not here to be picking daisies, they’re hear to be punished.”

“Is that why yer late, then?” Hagrid asked, frowning down at Filch. “Yeh’ve bin lecturin’ ‘em, haven’t yeh? ‘Snot yer place ter be doin’ that. Now, yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll be takin’ over from here.” 

“I’ll come back for them at dawn,” Filch told him, pausing as he began to turn to head back for the castle. “For what’s left of ‘em, anyway,” he added as an afterthought, smirking as he left us in Hagrid’s care, his lamp bobbing off into the darkness. 

Malfoy whirled on Hagrid now. 

“I am not setting foot in that forest,” he told him stubbornly, glaring at him pointedly, his voice wavering with panic. Harry glanced at me with a smirk as I fought not to laugh aloud. 

“If yeh want ter stay on at Hogwarts, yeh are,” Hagrid told him flatly, “Yeh need ter pay fer yer wrong doin’s.”

“But this kind of thing is servent tuff, not for students. I thought we’d be serving our detention copying lines or something. If my father knew what I was doing, he’d –“

“ – tell yeh this is how things are done at Hogwarts,” Hagrid growled. “What kinda lesson would yeh get from copyin’ lines? Yeh’ll be doin’ summat useful or yeh’l be sent home! If yeh think yer father would rather yeh’re expelled, then yeh’d better get back up ter the castle an’ start packin’. Go on!”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes on the giant, refusing to move an inch, although it took a moment before he glanced away, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. 

“All right, then,” Hagrid sighed, turning to the rest of us, “now, I want all of yeh to listen carefully, ‘cause what we’re doin’ tonight is very dangerous, an’ I don’ want anyone takin’ any unnecessary risks. Follow me over here.”

He led us over to the very edge of the forest, lifting his lamp up high enough that we were able to see a narrow, winding dirt path disappearing into the thicket of trees. A light breeze drifted toward us, disturbing our hair and clothes. 

“Yeh see this here?” Hagrid pointed to the ground, where a small puddle of shining, silvery gray liquid had pooled at the base of one of the trees bordering the path, glowing pale blue in the moonlight that managed to slip past the thick canopy of trees overhead. “That silvery stuff on the ground, it’s unicorn blood. Summat in the forest’s hurt a unicorn quite badly, second one this week. Last Wednesday, I found another dead in onea the clearin’s. Our job tanight’s ta find the injured one and put it outta its misery.” 

“But what if we’re found by whatever’s hurt the unicorn first?” Malfoy asked fearfully, frowning up at Hagrid once more. 

“So long as yer with me or Fang, there ain’t nuthin’ in that forest that’ll hurt yeh,” Hagrid told him. “An’ be sure ter kept ter the path. Right, now, we’re gonna need ter split inter two parties ter follow the two diff’rent paths t’at split a little ways in. There’s blood all over the place, so it won’t be hard ter follow. Poor thing musta bin staggerin’ around since at least last night.”

“I want Fang,” Malfoy said at once, noticing Fang’s long teeth. 

“All right, but yeh should know, he’s a coward,” Hagrid said, shrugging slightly, “So, it’ll be me, Harry, an’ Hermione goin’ one way, while Draco, Cheyenne, Neville, an’ Fang go the other. What I want yeh lot ter do if yeh find the unicorn is send up green sparks, all right? Get all yer wands out an’ practice now – that’s it – an’ ter send fer help if someone gets inter trouble, yeh’re ter send up red sparks, an’ we’ll come ter yer rescue. Be sure ter be careful, all right? Right, let’s go.”

With that, we headed off into the trees together, the only sounds accompanying us that of the rustling of leaves overhead and the swish of our robes over the path below. Just a few short yards in, we reached the divide in the path where Malfoy, Neville, Fang, and I separated from Hagrid, Harry, and Hermione, taking the right path while they took the left. 

Silence stretched on between the three of us as we walked, our clothes rustling in the soft wind. Owls screeched in the distance, while earth bound night dwellers disturbed the underbrush around us, hurrying across the path in front of us from time to time. Fang led the way over the tree roots, his nose to the ground as we followed the path, spotting little pools of silver-blue blood glistening on the fallen leaves under our feet. I followed closely behind him, Neville directly behind me, practically hugging me from behind as he clutched desperately to the back of my robes as though he though something could jump out at any second and attack us. I reached behind me with my free hand and took one of his, glancing over my shoulder with a reassuring smile as I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, letting him know everything would be all right. Malfoy walked several feet behind us, mumbling under his breath still about how unfair this all way and about how he was being subjected to chores beneath his station. I sighed after a while, glancing over my other shoulder in an effort to see the irrational blond. 

“Honestly Malfoy, grow up, you need to learn to take your punishment when it’s given to you. Get off your high horse and stop acting like you’re so high and mighty.”

Hard gray eyes lifted to meet my gaze as he glared at me, “Shut up, Power, you have no room to talk.”

“I think I do, because I at least know I’ve done wrong and I accept the punishment given to me because it’s necessary, unlike a certain daddy’s boy who thinks he can get whatever he wants just because his family’s loaded.” I stopped and turned to face him, frowning, “You need to learn to grow up and act like a person instead of acting like you’re the prince of everything just because your father is in the Ministry. Take a bit of advice, Malfoy, and start doing something for yourself insteada depending on daddy all the time, because, you know, one day he isn’t gonna be around to bail you out of trouble.”

“What, like your and Potter’s fathers weren’t?” Malfoy snapped back smugly, smirking and crossing his arms confidently over his chest. My heart immediately clenched at that and I stopped, staring at him in disbelief that he would actually take such a low blow. “At least I have a father and a mother around who love and care about me enough that they would help get me out of a situation when it was needed. You and Potter are stuck with those Muggles who could care less about either one of you. Tell me again, tell me, where did the two of you spend Christmas this year, hm?”

My eyes stung as I fought back the tears threatening to fill them and spill forth, glaring as hard at Malfoy as I was able, swallowing thickly to keep my throat from closing, “Y-you’re a re-real j-j-jerk, Ma-Malfoy.” I told him angrily, which caused his smirk to widen, seeing he was getting to me. “Oh, did I strike a nerve, hm? Oh, I-I h-h-hurt th-the li-li-little cry-crybaby’s fe-feelings.” He taunted cruelly, poking fun at my stutter. I clenched my hand tightly around my wand, shaking as I tried to keep from crying. 

“Leave Cheyenne alone, Malfoy,” Neville said timidly, stepping around to stand next to me, surprising both Malfoy and myself for a moment as we looked at him. Malfoy was the first to recover, however. “Sticking up for your crush, are you, Longbottom? I guess what they say is true, like draws like.”

“Oh shut up, Malfoy.” I snapped at him, returning my glare to the blond hatefully. “At least Neville is brave enough to stick up for his friends.” I gently took Neville’s hand again and turned to continue down the path, quickly wiping at my eyes to wipe the tears away. Malfoy snorted from behind us and his footsteps resumed, dead leaves crunching loudly under his shoes as he hurried to catch up with us. Neville squeezed my hand tightly as though asking if I was all right and I glanced over my shoulder at him again, giving a small smile to tell him I would be all right, silently thanking him for sticking up for me like he had, knowing it couldn’t have been easy for him. 

We continued along our path in silence, still only broken by the sounds of the leaves overhead and underfoot, our robes rustling with our movements and Neville’s occasional whimper. Even Malfoy had finally gone silent, which was a relief in of itself. But then, a new sound broke the rhythm, overshadowing the rest of the natural forest sounds. Fang stopped, his head lifting as his ears perked, prompting me to stop behind him, holding an arm out to tell Neville and Malfoy to stop as well. I glanced ahead of us, listening and watching for anything that could be moving. What sounded like something slithering over the dead leaves mere yards away caught my ear, my breath catching in my throat for a moment. The alarms in my head began going off, warning of danger, overtaking the thundering of my heart in my chest. 

“Wh-what is th-th-that?!” Neville squeaked, clutching my hand tighter. I squeezed his hand gently, frowning deeply, “I don’t know, Neville…but it doesn’t sound good. I’m going to see if I can’t catch a glimpse of it. Fang, stay with Malfoy and Neville.” I told the boarhound, gently slipping out of Neville’s grip and hurrying off down the path, listening hard for the slithering sound we had heard not moments before. Whatever it was was close by, just out of my line of sight, using the encroaching darkness around me to it’s advantage as it skulked stealthily through the underbrush. My heart beat a tempo against my ribcage as I moved closer, pulling my wand out as the thought to use Lumos in order light my path and catch a glimpse of whatever stalked these woods and see whatever it could be that was killing the unicorns so mercilessly. 

Before I could get the chance to think it over, I thought I heard a loud shriek from where I had left Neville with Malfoy and Fang, followed by a burst of red from them as well, red sparks shooting up over the treetops overhead to light up the night sky. I whirled immediately in that direction, all thought of the creature I’d just been following fleeing my mind as concern for my house mate took their place as my instincts screamed at me to return to them and help them fight whatever was attacking them. 

I had only gone several yards ahead of the three, so it didn’t take me long to return to them, although as I ran, a million different scenarios had already sped through my mind, yet not one of them was the one I had expected to happen upon. Instead of the three being cornered by a vicious creature, battling for their lives, I found Fang cowering behind a towering oak tree while Neville was slumped against it’s trunk, clutching the front of his robes just over his heart. Several feet away, Malfoy was knelling on the ground, clutching his stomach and laughing hysterically. 

Blinking slowly in confusion and befuddlement at the scene, it took me a moment to realize what exactly had happened before anger spread through my veins like wildfire, my fists clenching tightly as I stomped over to where Malfoy was crouched on the ground, still laughing hysterically. Grabbing the front of his robes, I hauled him back to his feet, glaring heatedly at him with all my might.

“What in the name of Merlin is your deal, Malfoy?! Have you any idea just how dangerous this situation is or what exactly we’re trying to do here?! Thanks to you, we’ll be lucky if we’re not attacked by the very creature we’re trying to hunt down!” I growled, shaking him, hoping it would make him see some sense. When he only continued to laugh, I growled in disgust and tossed him back, shaking my head as I turned to console Neville. 

Something crashed through the undergrowth a few moments later, startling all four of us, including Malfoy, who immediately stopped laughing and turned to look in the direction of the noise, his glee replaced with fear. I got to my feet, standing protectively in front of Neville as I drew my wand from my robes, holding it out in front of me defensively, staring in the direction of the noise, waiting for the source of it to reveal itself, my muscles bunched tightly, coiled in preparation to spring at any second. 

My ears suddenly felt sharper than usual, picking up every little sound, from the smallest breath of wind in the trees overhead to the cracking of the twigs underfoot, my heart pounding in my chest again, my blood rushing through my veins. A great shadow loomed up out of the gloom and the three boys all squealed in fright, Malfoy diving behind me to join Fang and Neville as I tightened my grip on my wand, my mind racing with the possible spells I could use for defense. A stray ray of moonlight slid across the creature’s face, glinting off a pair of familiar beetle black eyes. My body almost immediately relaxed, my wand lowering automatically as Fang seemed to recognize his owner as well and became to bark warmly.

“Hagrid…” I breathed out in relieve, looking up at him thankfully as he stepped onto the path next to us, his great crossbow held up defensively as he glanced up and down the path before looking down at us, frowning deeply, “What happened ta the three o’ yeh? Why’d yeh send up them sparks before?”

My earlier irritation returned as I jabbed a thumb in Malfoy’s direction, “Ask mister jokey here. He thought it’d be funny to scare Neville half to death and make him send up those sparks.”

“Yeh did what?!” Hagrid thundered, looking angrily down at Malfoy as he was trying to regain his composure as he looked coolly back at him, “I can’t help it if Longbottom’s a big old crybaby.”

“Oh, like you have room to talk, Malfoy, you dived behind me as soon as you heard Hagrid coming because you thought he was something that was going to attack and eat you.” I growled, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as I glared at him. He looked offended by this and glared heatedly back at me, “I was not, I was simply offering back up –“ “Oh please, you were cowering like a little girl and you know it –“

“That’s enough outta the two of yeh,” Hagrid growled lowly, putting an end to our argument with a stern look as he sighed, shaking his head irritably as he turned back the direction he came, “All right, you four come with me, we’ll be switchin’ some people around, seeing as how some people can’t control themselves.” He said, shooting Malfoy a look over his shoulder as he began leading us back through the path he’d made through the trees to get to us. I glared at the blond as well, quickly ushering Neville and Fang ahead of me to keep myself between them before I followed after, muttering under my breath as I did. 

It didn’t take us long until we reached where Hagrid had left Harry and Hermione, who stood shock still in the middle of their path, staring around at the trees with wide, scared eyes. As soon as they saw us, Harry hurried to my side, grabbing my hand, “Chey, are you okay? What happened?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing worriedly as he looked me over for any wounds. I smiled reassuring at him and squeezed his hand softly to let him know I was all right while Hagrid explained what happened. 

“Now, thanks ta the twoa yeh, we’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’. We’re changin’ groups now, hopefully so we can finish what we came in here to do. Neville, yeh’ll be comin’ with me an’ Hermione. Harry, yeh go with Cheyenne, Fang, an’ this idiot,” He sighed, leaning in close to whisper apologetically to Harry and I, “I’m sorry I have ta do this ta the twoa yeh, I thought Malfoy would’ve behaved himself with Cheyenne around, but I know he’ll have a hard time scarin’ the botha yeh. We do need ta get this done.”

Harry and I agreed and set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang on our heels, whispering to one another while we kept an eye on the trial of unicorn blood had had been left behind. The trees were becoming thicker with each passing moment, making following the path harder and harder, although with the increase in trees, there also seemed to be an increase in the amount of blood we were coming across as well. The roots under our feet were splattered with it, shining blue silver like they’d been painted there. My heart clenched in empathy at the thought of the poor creature thrashing around in pain nearby and I glanced ahead at the thicket of branches before us, sheltering the entrance to a clearing. 

Harry moved me behind him as he held out an arm to stop Malfoy as well, all of us taking a moment before we started inching closer, something white on the grass gleaming at us through the branches. I reached over Harry’s shoulder to move a few branches out of the way so we could see properly. 

“Oh…no…” I whispered sadly, putting my hand to my mouth as soon as I saw the beautiful creature laying prone on the grass. Even in death the unicorn was magnificent, it’s long, pearly-white mane spread out over the leaves like a blanket, although it’s long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles. 

Harry took a step toward it, but then that hauntingly familiar, slithering sound suddenly flowed in on the wind, my hand automatically reaching out to grasp his robes tightly to keep him from going any further, although I could tell the noise had undoubtedly frozen him. A bush to our right quivered, just on the edge of the clearing before it parted to reveal a hooded figure, which crawled it way through the leaves, stalking toward the dead unicorn like a jungle cat stalking it’s prey. The blood froze in my veins as I clutched so tightly to my best friend’s robes, I could feel the white in my knuckles, my breath catching in my throat as Harry, Malfoy, Fang, and I watched this figure draw closer to the corpse until it was right along side it. It slid along behind it until it reached the wound in the unicorn’s side, it’s hooded head lowering to drink –

“AAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

Malfoy let out the most terrible, heart stopping scream imaginable, breaking the spell that had overtaken us as we’d watched the figure approach it’s prey before the blond turned and bolted out of sight, taking Fang with him. The hooded figure lifted it’s head from the wound, peering up at Harry and I while silvery blood ran trails down it’s shadowed chin, dripping onto the front of it’s clothes. It was suddenly on it’s feet, seeming to glide as it came swiftly toward us. Neither of us moved, our fear paralyzing us, rooting us to the very spot. 

And then, a sudden pain like nothing I had ever felt before in my entire life engulfed me, piercing through my skull and right to the point where my scar marked my forehead, blinding me. I staggered back, my hand slipping from Harry’s robes as hoof beats sounded from behind us, galloping, growing louder until I thought I saw something jump over us, charging at the figure. 

It took a moment for the pain in my head to fade, but by the time I was able to return to my senses, but once I became aware of myself again, I found myself hunched over on the grass, clutching my hairline as though to use as an anchor to bring me back from the world of pain I’d just been inhabiting not seconds earlier. When I could look up again, it was to find that the figure had disappeared, to be replaced by a young, white-blond palomino centaur. 

“Are you two all right?” He asked, helping Harry to his feet before turning to offer me help as well, which I accepted gratefully, getting shakily to my feet.

“Y-yes, we’re….w-we’re fine…wh-what was that…?” I muttered as Harry took my hand, looking gently at me as I smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand softly. 

Our savior didn’t answer the question, only stared at the two of us with pale sapphire like eyes, taking in our appearances and the identical scars that stood out vividly on both our foreheads. 

“You’re the Potter/Power duo,” he said solemnly. “The two of you’d best be getting back to Hagrid, the forest isn’t safe now, especially not for either of you. Can either of you ride, it would be quicker to get both of you back. 

“I’m named Firenze,” he added as an afterthought as he lowered himself to the knees on his front legs so that Harry and I could climb onto his back; Harry gently grasped my arm to help me up, then climbed on behind me, securing his arms around my waist from behind. 

More galloping suddenly erupted from the other end of the clearing and a second later, two more centaurs appeared, one a red-haired/beared man’s torso attached to a chestnut horse body, while the other was a wilder looking, black hair/bodied male. Their flanks heaved with strain, while their faces were flushed and their necks glistened with sweat.

“Firenze!” The darker of the duo bellowed, “What do you think you are doing? You have two humans on your back! Where is your dignity? Have you become a simple common mule?”

“Do neither of you realize who these two are?’ Firenze asked with a frown. “These are the Potter/Power duo. The quicker they both leave this forest, the safer they’ll be.”

“What have you been telling them?” The darker centaur growled. “Do you not remember, Firenze, that we are sworn not to align ourselves against what is written in the heavens? Have you not read the movements of the plants as well?”

The fiery haired centaur pawed the growled nervously, glancing between his companions, “Perhaps Firenze believes he is only doing what is best…” he said in a rather gloomy sounding voice. 

This only caused the other to kick his back legs out angrily. 

“This is for the best? This has nothing to do with us! We are only concerned with what has been foretold by the heavens, we do not make it out business to go running after every stray human we come across like donkeys!”

Firenze suddenly reared back onto his hind legs at that, leaving Harry and I to scramble to a hold so we wouldn’t be thrown from his back, my arms securing around his torso.

“Do neither of you see that unicorn?” he thunder at the dark haired centaur. “Do neither of you understand how it has come to be this way, or have the plants not yet foretold of it? I will not simply stand aside and watch the plants like the rest of you, I myself am set against whatever is lurking in this forest and yes, I will do it alongside humans if I must, Bane.”

With that Fireze whisked around, Harry and I clutching to him as best we were able while he plunged us into the tress, leaving the two other centaurs behind. 

My mind was whirling with what had just happened, leaving my very confused about what was going on. 

“What was Bane so angry?” Harry asked after a few silent moments. “And what was that thing that you saved Chey and I from, anyway?” 

Firenze slowed to a walk, warning Harry and I to keep our heads low to avoid any low-hanging branches, although he did not answer either of Harry’s questions. I frowned quietly, glancing back at my best friend quizzically, but he simply shrugged and sighed. The three of us fell silent then, allowing the sound of the forest to accompany us as Firenze carried us through the trees until he suddenly stopped in the middle of a rather dense patch of trunks.

“Harry Potter, Cheyenne Power, do either of you know the abilities unicorn blood possess?”

I scratched my cheek thoughtfully for a moment, frowning, “So far, we’ve only used unicorn hair and horns in Potions, but I think I’ve read something about it somewhere….”

“Unicorn hair and horn is only used in potions because it’s a very monstrous thing to slain a unicorn,” Firenze said softly, startling the two of us for a moment, “Usually, it is someone who has nothing left to lose or no other option. It is said that the blood of a unicorn has the ability to keep one alive, even if they are a mere inch from death, yet it shall come at a terrible price, for, to save yourself, you have slain something so pure and defenseless it shall only grant you a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment that blood touches your lips.”

My heart twinged at the thought of someone being so cruel and selfish as to want to hurt something so beautiful just to remain living, anger returning to me once more. 

“What kind of person would sink so low as to do something like that?” I huffed, crossing my arms. “It would be better to die than to take something else’s life and be cursed by it….”

“You are right,” Firenze agreed, glancing over his shoulder, “But one only has to do such a deed if they need to remain alive long enough to drink another potion in order to regain what they once had and prevent from losing it ever again. Do either of you know what is hidden up at the school at this very moment?”

“The Sorcerer’s Stone!” Harry and I breathed together, looking at one another with wide eyes. “The Elixir of Life, of course…but who-?”

“Can neither of you honestly think of no one who would do such things, someone who has possibly waited years in order to return to the former glory they had, just waiting for the perfect chance?”

My heart clenched almost painfully in my chest the moment that little light bulb went off in my brain, my stomach twisting all up in knots at the realization of who it could be. The words Hagrid had spoken to Harry and I the first night he met us rang through my mind like a gong: ‘Some say he died. Me, I don’t believe it, don’t think he had enough human left in him to die.’

“Vol –“

“Harry, Chey! Are you both all right?”

Hermione’s voice jolted me back into reality, back to the present as she ran toward us down the path, Hagrid hurrying along after her. 

“We’re…we’re fine,” Harry muttered softly from behind me, although I could tell, just like me, that he was off in his own thoughts. “Uh….we….we saw the unicorn, Hagrid, it’s already dead. Back there…” 

“This is where I must leave the two of you,” Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried out of sight to see the unicorn. “You are both safe now.”

Harry slid off Firenze’s back and reached up to help me down as well. 

“Good luck, Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power,” Firenze said sincerely, looking at us. “Even us centaurs have read the plants incorrectly from time to time. I hope we have made that same mistake…”

With that, he turned and trotted off into trees, disappearing into the shadows while Harry and I watched, shivering in place. 

 

By the time Harry, Hermione, Neville, and I returned to Gryffindor Tower late that night, Ron, who had tried staying up to wait for us, had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the fire. While Hermione and I took adjoining seats, Harry shook Ron awake, causing the red-head to bolt upright, shouting something about Quidditch fouls before he blinked sleepily up at the three of us, yawning massively. However, within seconds he was wide awake, listening to Harry explain to him and Hermione what had happened to the two of us in the forest. 

Harry was pacing through the entire retelling; he couldn’t even sit still, even though he was still shaking very badly from the experience. I watched him quietly from where I had sat down in one of the squishy arm chairs, chewing my bottom lip worriedly. 

“Chey and I figured out….Snape doesn’t want the Sorcerer’s Stone for himself…he wants it for Voldemort, who’s waiting in the forest for him to deliver it….Snape doesn’t want it for money, he just….he needs to deliver it to Voldemort…”

“Would you stop saying the name!?” Ron whispered in terror, glancing around the room as though he thought Voldemort was going to overhear us. Harry wasn’t listening, though. 

“Firenze saved us, but…he shouldn’t have…Bane seemed really angry about it, furious really…” he muttered, sighing. 

“Yeah…he was saying something about Firenze interfering with what the planets were predicting was going to happen…They must know Voldemort’s trying to come back…Bane seems to think Firenze shouldn’t have interfered, that he should have…let Voldemort kill us tonight….could that have been written in the stars…?” I glanced toward the dark window at the starry sky, watching them wink at us through the clear glass. 

“Stop saying his name!” Ron hissed. 

“So now all Chey and I need to do is wait for Snape to make his move,” Harry continued in a feverish voice, “after that….Voldemort will be able to come here and finish us off….’pose that’ll make Bane happy….”

I looked back around at my best friends in time to see the frightened look on Hermione’s face, although she wasn’t so terrified that she was unable to offer a word of comfort.

“Harry….Chey…everyone knows that Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who’s ever been afraid of, so…with Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who wouldn’t be able to touch you, either of you. And besides, who says the centaurs are right? All this just sounds like fortune-telling to me and from what Professor McGonagall’s said, that branch of magic is very imprecise.”

Just beyond the window, the light of dawn was beginning to streak across the horizon, outlining the mountains in bright pinks and oranges while the sky overhead turned a light blue in color. We all decided now would be a good time for us to go to bed, knowing we’d had a long night, so, physically and mentally exhausted, we trudged upstairs to bed. And yet, the night’s surprises were not yet over. 

Pulling back the sheets on my bed, I was pleasantly surprised to find my invisibility cloak folded neatly by my pillow. A note was pinned to the front:

Just in case.


	16. Through the Trapdoor

Looking back on my examination days as an adult, I often found myself wondering if I would question how I had managed to get through them all while I was half consumed with the thought that Voldemort could come bursting through the classroom door at any moment. And yet the days continued to crept by, bringing with it the certainty that Fluffy was still alive and keeping the Sorcerer’s Stone out of the Dark Lord’s clutches. 

The weather outside was sweltering hot, completing the image of summer being just around the corner as the heat seemed to creep it’s way into the large classroom where we were all doing our written papers. Upon starting the exam, we were each given new quills, which had an Anti-Cheating spell placed on them. 

Practical exams were on our agendas as well, as, for Charms, Professor Flitwick had each of us come into his classroom one at a time to bewitch a pineapple to tap dance across the desk, while Professor McGonagall had us change a mouse into a snuffbox – additional points were added for how pretty the snuffbox came out and taken away if it still had whiskers. During Snape’s exam we were told to brew up a Forgetfulness potion, which was not easy for any of us as the Potions’ master continually seemed to be breathing down our necks through the entire thing. 

I did my best to get through my exams while ignoring the stabbing pains that continually pierced my forehead, constant pains that hadn’t left me since our little venture into the forest. What made things even worse was that fact that the old nightmare Harry and I had had when we were children had returned, except this time, the hooded figure we had seen in the forest had become a frequent part of it now, too. Harry even told me about how Neville had thought maybe the pressures of our exams was getting to him when he’d noticed he hadn’t been getting as much sleep as usual.

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, were not as concerned about the fate of the Stone as either Harry or I were and I often wondered why that could be, thinking perhaps it was because they hadn’t been witness to what the two of us had seen in the forest or because they didn’t have reminders forever dug into their foreheads. Although the idea of Voldemort still terrified them, neither of them had to endure dreams where he visited them night after night and they were still so wrapped up in their own studying that any worries about Snape or anyone else had to be put on the back burners for now. 

The last exam we had to sit through was History of Magic, which consisted of an entire hour of our class having to sit and answer questions about famous witches and wizards who’d invented the things we used today before we would finally be free to go out and enjoy a week of rest and relaxation before we found out our results. When our hour was finally up and Professor Binns told us to put down our quills and roll up our parchment, Hermione and I were among those cheering happily. 

“That exam was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” she said as we pushed our way out into the corridor and followed the crowds flocking out to enjoy the sunny grounds. “I can’t believe that we didn’t even need to know about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager, though…”

It was Hermione’s habit to want to talk about our exams after we were through with them, which often led Ron to complain that that only made him ill so the four of us just decided to enjoy the nice day outside and wandered down toward the lake, flopping down under a tree by the water. Just a few yards away we could see Fred, George, and Lee tickling the tentacles of the giant squid as it was basking in the shallows. 

“Finally free…” Ron sighed as he stretched out luxuriously on the grass, “No more studying, no more exams, now we only have to wait for our results to come out. Harry, Chey, the two of you should look a bit more cheerful than that!”

I didn’t even look up at Ron as I kept my gaze on my best friend, who had his head laid in my lap as he ran his fingers over his scar.

“I just wish we knew what this means!” he growled softly. “My and Chey’s scars keep bothering us….it’s happened before, but…not like this…”

“Why don’t the two of you go to Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione suggested with a worried frown. 

“We’re not ill though…” I sighed, leaning back against the tree and looking up for the first time, frowning deeply. “From what I’ve noticed…every time our scars bother us, it seems to be some kind of a warning, like our scars are trying to tell us danger is coming…”

Ron didn’t seem all that bothered by the problem, it was too hard to get worked up now.

“C’mon Harry, Chey, relax, remember why Hermione said, so long as Dumbledore’s around, the Stone’s safe. Besides, we never really had any solid proof that Snape found a way to get past Fluffy. Almost got his leg ripped off when he tried for the Stone on Halloween, I’m sure he’s not in that big a hurt to try for it again. I bet Neville’ll be playing for the English Quidditch team before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.”

I sighed in defeat and allowed my gaze to drift toward the lake shore, my fingers absentmindedly running through Harry’s hair as I allowed my mind to drift, unable to shake the feeling that something was off, like I had forgotten to do something important. Harry, who seemed to be having the same feeling, brought this up to Hermione, who simply waved it off, “You’re probably just still thinking of the exams, trust me, I know. I woke up Chey last night when I thought we still had to study for our Transfiguration test, but she reminded me we’d already done it.” 

No, that wasn’t quite it, this feeling had nothing to do with our exams or schoolwork….something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I turned my head to watch an owl flutter across the bright blue sky on it’s way to the school, a letter clamped in its mouth. Neither Harry or I had ever gotten any letters except for those we’d received from Hagrid….Hagrid wouldn’t betray Dumbledore…wouldn’t tell anyone how to get past Fluffy…unless…

I was on my feet before I knew it, grasping Harry’s hand as we hurried across the grounds together.

“Where’re you two going?” Ron called sleepily after us.

“We just thought of something,” Harry called behind us, slowing slightly, his face a shade of white identical to mine. “We have to go see Hagrid, now.”

“What, why?” Hermione asked, bewildered as she scrambled up to hurry after us.

“Don’t either of you think it odd,” I started as we hurried upthe grassy slope, “That the one thing Hagrid wants most in this world is a dragon and he gets it from some stranger who just happens to have an egg in their pocket? If it’s against wizard law, no one should be carrying something like that around with them. Seems a bit too good to be true that they would find Hagrid to hand it over to…Why couldn’t we have seen it before?”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Ron asked, not receiving an answer as Harry and I practically sprinted across the grounds toward Hagrid’s hut. 

Upon arrival, we were greeted with the sight of the giant seated just outside in an armchair, his trousers and sleeves rolled up while he shelled peas into a large bowls. 

“Hullo,” he greeted cheerfully with a smile. “The lotta yeh finish yer exams? Any o’ yeh thirsty?”

“Yes,” Ron started gratefully before Harry cut him off.

“No thank you, Hagrid, we’re kinda in a hurry, we just came to ask you something. You remember that night you got Norbert? Did you catch a good look of the stranger’s face, the one you played cards against to win the egg?”

“No, not really,” Hagrid replied casually, “he kept his cloak on through the whole thin’.”

He caught sight of all four of our stunned faces and raised his eyebrows in question. 

“Wha? ‘Snot all that unusual, always see a lotta funny folk pop up in the Hog’s Head – that’s the pub I go to down in the village. He coulda bin a dragon dealer or sumthing, couldn’ he? Didn’t seem interested in takin’ his hood off, so I couldn’ get a good look at his face. 

I stumbled as Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas, still holding onto my hand as I continued looking up at Hagrid. 

“What did the two of you talk about, Hagrid? Did you bring up anything going on at Hogwarts?”

“Hm, it mighta come up,” Hagrid said thoughtfully, furrowing his brows as he tried to remember. “Yeah….he did ask what I did, I told him I worked as the Hogwarts gamekeeper….then he asked what kinda creatures I looked after…so I told him….an’ I mentioned I’d always wanted a dragon…an’ then…it’s kinda fuzzy…he kept buying me drinks…Let’s see…oh yeh, he told me he had a dragon’s egg an’ that he’d be willin’ ta play cards fer it…asked if I’d be able to handle it, though, said he didn’t want ter jus’ give it ter anyone…an’ I told him, after Fluffy, I’d be able ter handle a dragon.”

“Did he show a particular interest in Fluffy?” Harry asked in a would-be calm voice. 

“O’ course he was interested in Fluffy, yeh don’t see a lotta three-headed dogs around, especially at Hogwarts. So I said, Fluffy was a piece o’ cake ter take care of if yeh know the right way to calm him down. All yeh have ter do is play him a bit o’ music an’ he’ll fall right ta sleep –“

Hagrid broke off with a horrified expresion on his face. 

“I shouldn’ta said that!” He burst out. “Jus’ ferget I said it an’ - ! Oi, where’re yeh goin’?”

None of us spoke as we sprinted back toward the castle, only stopping upon reaching the entrance hall, which seemed a bit dark and gloomy after having been out on the grounds. 

“We’ve got to tell Dumbledore,” Harry panted, turning slightly to look at Hermione and Ron behind us. “With however many drinks that hooded figure bought Hagrid, he’s told him how to get past Fluffy and I’ll be anything that that man was either Snape or Voldemort….”

“I just hope Dumbledore believes us…” I said, chewing my bottom lip anxiously, “Maybe if we can get Firenze up to the castle, he’d be able to vouch for us. We’d just have to find Dumbledore’s….office…”

The four of us paused in the middle of the corridor, glancing around in an effort to find some kind of sign that would point us in the right direction. None of us had ever been told where the headmaster lived, let alone gone to the office itself and none of us knew of anyone who could have been sent there themselves. 

“It looks like we’ll have to –“ Harry started when a voice suddenly interrupted him, making all of us turn.

“What are the four of you doing inside?”

Professor McGonagall was quickly approaching, her arms stacked high with books. 

“We’d like to see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said quickly, sounding bravery than either Harry, Ron, or I had heard her in the time we’d been friends. 

“See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall questioned with a frown, her eyebrows knitting as though she thought such a request was rather strange in of itself. “Why?”

I immediately tensed and exchanged glances with Harry, unsure if we should tell her the truth. 

“Well…it’s sorta a secret…” Harry told her; wrong answer. Immediately, Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared and she narrowed her eyes on the four of us. 

“Professor Dumbledore’s just left,” she told us rather coldly. “He had to go to the Ministry of Magic on urgent business and flew off for London immediately.”

“He’s gone?!” I asked with wide eyes, shaking my head quickly. “B-but he can’t be gone now!”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very important wizard, Power, he has a great deal of responsibility –“

“But Professor, this is important.”

“What could possibly be so important that it overrules that Ministry of Magic, Potter?”

“Look, Professor,” I said quickly, not thinking through the consequences of what I was about to say, “We need to talk to him, now, it has to do with the Sorcerer’s Stone –“

That seemed to be the absolute last thing Professor McGonagall had been expecting because as soon as she heard this, the books in her arms tumbled out of her grasp onto the floor, scattering in every direction, making us jump back in surprise. She didn’t move to pick them up, however.

“H-how did you….?” She spluttered. 

“Professor, we know someone’s trying to steal the Stone now, we have to tell Professor Dumbledore straight away.”

She eyed Harry and I quietly for a moment, her lips pursed tightly in shock and suspicion. 

“Professor Dumbledore will not return until tomorrow,” she finally said. “And I don’t know how the four of you found out about the Stone, but I can assure you no one will be able to steal it, it’s very well protected.” 

“B-but Professor –“

“Power, I know what I am talking about,” she cut in abruptly, bending down to gather her fallen books. “Now, I suggest you all go back outside to enjoy the nice weather.”

None of us moved.

“It has to be tonight…” Harry and I said together, glancing at one another before we looked at Ron and Hermione once we were sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. “Snape’s already gathered all the pieces together that he needs and he’s gotten Dumbledore out of the way, he’ll take the opportunity to go through the trapdoor tonight. He must’ve sent the note. Probably be a shock for the Ministry when Dumbledore turns up.”

“But what should we –“

Hermione’s eyes suddenly widened and she inhaled sharply, causing Harry, Ron, and I to wheel around, only to find Snape standing directly behind us. 

“Good afternoon,” he said in a smooth voice. We could only stare at him.

“Why are the four of you inside on such a beautiful day like this one?” he asked with a quirked brow, a strange, twisted smile curling his lips.

“E-er, we-we were, u-um…” I stuttered nervously, unsure what to say, gulping thickly. 

“You’ll want to be more careful,” Snape cautioned. “If you hang around places like this, people will begin to think you’re up to something and Gryffindor can’t really afford to lose anymore points than it already has, now can it?”

My face immediately heated up, but Harry’s hand clenched mine, keeping me grounded as we turned to go back outside, only to be called back by Snape. 

“I would watch myself, Potter, Power – if I find either of you out on another midnight stroll, then I will personally make sure the two of you are expelled. Good day.”

He strode off toward the staffroom, leaving us to step back out into the sunshine. Harry and I turned back to Ron and Hermione. 

“Right, this is what we’re gonna have to do,” Harry whispered urgently, bending his head in close to the three of us. “One of us has to keep a close eye on Snape, wait for him outside the staff room and follow him when he leaves. Hermione, it’ll have to be you.”

“Why me?”

“He doesn’t trust Harry, Ron, or I as much as he’ll trust you,” I pointed out, earning nods in agreement from Ron and Harry, “And if he happens to spot you, you can just tell him you were waiting to talk to Professor Flitwick about something –“

“Yeah, you can tell him about how you think you put a wrong answer for question fourteen.” Ron said with a smirk.

“Oh shut up,” Hermione growled, finally agreeing to it as she slipped off in the direction Snape had gone. 

“The three of us had better go keep an eye on the third-flood corridor,” Harry said, turning to Ron and I now. “C’mon.”

That part of the plan did not go well. Just as we were reaching the door that separated Fluffy from the rest of the school, Professor McGonagall reappeared, only to lose her temper upon spotting us. 

“I suppose the three of you think you’d be harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!” she stormed. “Enough of your nonsense, I want the three of you to go back to Gryffindor Tower and stay there for the night. If I hear any of you have been snooping anywhere near here again, it’ll be another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, I will take points from my own house!”

Chided and defeated, Harry, Ron, and I returned to the common room to wait for Hermione, who turned up not minutes later, looking distraught.

“I’m so sorry, Harry, Chey!” she wailed. “Snape came out and saw me waiting, so he asked me what I was doing. When I told him I was waiting for Professor Flitwick, he went to get him, I just managed to get away. I don’t know where he could have gone next.”

“Well, that settles it then, doesn’t it?” I sighed, looking at Harry with a frown, earning a nod in reply while Ron and Hermione stared at us in question, wondering what we could be going on about. Both of us were pale, our grip on each other’s hands tighter than they’d ever been. 

“Chey and I’re going…we’re going to stop Snape from getting that stone.”

“No!” Ron said with wide eyes. 

“You can’t!” Hermione said in horror, covering her mouth. “After what McGonagall and Snape’ve told us, you’ll both be expelled!”

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER!” I shouted, startling everyone, including myself for a moment. I never shouted, not unless I was really upset about something and even then it was quite rare, but right now, this was urgent, this was something Harry and I had to do. I continued in a softer voice, although it was still hard, stubborn, “It won’t matter if Harry and I are expelled from Hogwarts if Snape gets the Stone and brings Voldemort back. Don’t you two remember what we heard about how things were when he tried taking over the first time? If he comes back, there won’t be any Hogwarts to be expelled from, he’ll get rid of it or even turn it into a school for the Dark Arts. Losing points and winning the House cup won’t matter either, he won’t care about that. If Harry and I get caught before we can save the Stone, the only thing that’ll happen is we’ll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find u there, which will only extend our lives for a little while because neither of us is ever going to join the Dark Side. Whether the two of you agree with us or not is your choice, but we’re not going to let you stop us from going through that trapdoor tonight and stopping Voldemort. He took our parents from us and made our lives miserable, remember?”

Harry glared at the two of them as though daring them to argue with us. 

“You’re right, Chey,” Hermione finally said in a small voice, nodding, “Both you and Harry are.”

“We’ll use one of our Invisibility Cloaks,” Harry said, seeming to relax a little, “The other one we’ll leave to the two of you, please take care of it, they’re special to us.”

“We won’t need it,” Ron said with a small smile, “All four of us will.”

“All….all four of us?”

“Of course, the two of you don’t think we’ll let you have all the fun.”

“Of course not,” Hermione added briskly, putting a hand on my shoulder and smiling gently, “You don’t think you’ll get the Stone without our help, do you? Chey, maybe we should look through our books to find something useful.”

“B-but….of all of us get caught….you’ll both be expelled, too.”

“Not if I can help it,” Hermione replied grimly, shaking her head. “Flitwick’s just told me I got a hundred and twelve percent on my exam, they won’t throw me out after that.”

 

After dinner that night, the four of us sat in two groups from each other, fidgeting nervously as we waited for the time when we could leave. No one else bothered us, seeing as how the rest of the Gryffindors had nothing left to say to either Harry or I anyway, although there were times when I could swear Fred tried to catch my eye at odd times, when he would offer a small, sad smile, which I would return before I turned back to my task. Tonight was the first night that the knowledge that Harry and I were outcasts didn’t really bother us all that much. While Hermione and I scanned through our books and notes together in an effort to find out a clue about some of the enchantments we would face tonight, Harry and Ron sat by one of the windows, neither of them talking much, looking deep in their own thoughts. 

The room slowly emptied as people drifted off to their own dormitories. 

“You two better’d get the cloaks,” Hermione whispered as Lee finally climbed the stairs leading up to the boys’ dorm, stretching and yawning along the way. I put my book aside and hurried up the staircase to our dark dormitory, quietly slipping over to my four-poster to grab my Invisibility Cloak from where I’d hidden it under my pillow. Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention as I was turning and I glanced over my shoulder, spotting the flute Hagrid had made me for Christmas, debating internally for a moment before I grabbed it, too, thinking it would be of good use when we had to get past Fluffy. 

With both items in check, I hurried back down to the common room. 

“We should split into two groups. Hermione and I will use my cloak while you two use Harry’s.”

“Should we make sure they fit here, we don’t want our feet to come uncovered –“

“What’re you four doing?” a voice from one of the shadowed corners called, making all four of us jump. Neville stepped out from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor to his chest, making it obvious the toad had been making another desperate bid for freedom. 

“W-w-we’re not d-do-doing anything Ne-Neville,” I said as Harry and I quickly pulled the cloaks behind our backs while Neville eyed our guilty faces. 

“You’re sneaking out again,”

“No, no we’re not,” Hermione said hurriedly, shaking her head, “We wouldn’t do anything of the sort, Neville. Now, c’mon, why don’t you head on up to bed now?” she asked, offering a gentle smile. 

Harry and I glanced at the grandfather cloak standing by the portrait hole, both of us knowing we didn’t have a lot of time on ours hands. If we didn’t go now, Snape could’ve already gotten past Fluffy and gotten in.

“You can’t go,” Neville told us in a shaky voice, “you’ll all be caught again and get Gryffindor into more trouble.”

“Neville, you don’t understand,” Harry said, returning his attention to the nervous boy, “we have to go, this is important.”

Neville wasn’t listening, though. He hurried to stand between us and the portrait hole, steeling himself for a fight, “I won’t let any of you go, I-I’ll fight you if I have to!”

“Neville!” Ron growled, “get away from the portrait hole, don’t be an idiot –“

“Don’t call me an idiot!” Neville shot back. “It isn’t right for any of you to be breaking anymore rules! Besides, it was you lot who told me to stand up to people!”

“Not to us!” Ron sighed, exasperated. “Look, Neville, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

He took a step toward our Housemate, his hands up passively, but Neville dropped Trevor and put up his hands, which were curled into fists while his toad leapt off out of sight. 

“Go on, then, take a swing!” Neville said, holding his hands up before his face. “I’m ready for you!”

Harry whirled on Hermione and I.

“Do something!” he breathed.

Nodding together, Hermione and I stepped forward and pulled our wands out of our robes. 

“Neville….” I sighed, looking apologetically at him, “We’re so so sorry about this.”

We raised our wands together. 

“Petrificus Totalus!” we said, pointing them at Neville, whose arms snapped to his sides while his legs sprang together, his whole body going rigid. He swayed where he stood for a moment before falling face down onto the carpet.

Hermione and I hurried to his side and turned him over, watching his wide, horrified eyes staring around at the four of us from his petrified face, his jaw clamped shut, preventing him from making any noise. 

“What’d the two of you do to him?!” Harry whispered.

“We put him in a full Body-Bind,” I said sadly, chewing my bottom lip miserably. “We’re so sorry about this, Neville…”

“We had to do this Neville, we’re sorry, but we haven’t got any time to explain,” Harry told him earnestly as he pulled me up and Hermione threw my Invisibility Cloak over her and I. 

“You’ll understand soon, Neville,” Ron told him as he and Harry disappeared under his cloak and we headed out through the portrait hole. 

Already tonight’s events weren’t looking all that good, especially when we had to leave Neville lying motionless in the common room. We were all nervous, even more so after that, so much so that every shadow that loomed ahead looked like Filch, while every breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down for an attack. Thankfully, though, we didn’t encounter anyone until we reached our first set of stairs, were we could see Mrs. Norris skulking around near the top. 

“Bet Ron’s wishing he could give her a right good kick about now, isn’t he?” I whispered to Hermione, who only replied by rolling her eyes and shaking her head slightly in amusement as we carefully climbed the stairs and moved around Mrs. Norris, who turned her lamplike eyes on us, but did little else. 

It wasn’t until we reached the staircase that ended with the third floor that we ran into Peeves, who was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet to cause anyone that walked over it to trip. 

“Who’s there?” he called as he heard us approaching, causing him to abandon his task as he narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Even though I can’t see you, doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re there. Are you ghoulie, ghostie, or wee student beastie?”

He rose high into the air and stopped, floating there as he squinted his eyes at us. 

“I should call Filch, tell him something’s a-crepping around unseen.”

I sucked in a quick breath, wondering what in the world to do when a voice ahead suddenly spoke, startling Hermione and I for a moment.

“Peeves,” The voice was hoarse, coming out in little more than a whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for wanting to be invisible.”

The shock of this almost caused Peeves to fall out of the air. He caught himself just before he hit the stairs however, and hovered just a foot above them.

“I am so sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir,” he said in a greasy voice. “It was my mistake, I didn’t see you…I-I mean, of course I didn’t, you’re invisible, after all. Please forgive old Peevie for his little joke, sir.”

“I have business to attend to here, Peeves,” It sounded like Harry’s voice in a lower pitch to imitate the Baron’s and I felt a glow of pride for my best friend’s thinking. “I want you to stay away from this place tonight.”

“Yes sir, I will be sure to,” Peeves said, rising back up into the air. “I hope your business goes well, Baron, I will be sure not to bother you.”

With that, he scooted off.

“That was brilliant,” Hermione whispered with a smile, while I could only nod my head in agreement. 

It didn’t take long for us to reach the door that led onto the third-floor corridor, a door we found to already be ajar. 

“Snape must’ve already gotten past Fluffy,” I whispered with a frown, clenching my teeth, glancing at Hermione, who was frowning thoughtfully. I smiled gently at her, knowing how big this must all seem now as we stood before the door, knowing what we were about to face. I put a hand on her shoulder, “Hermione, if you and Ron decide to go back, neither Harry nor I will blame you, you both can have the cloaks, we won’t need them anymore.”

She looked up at me with a deeper frown than before, shaking her head, “No, Chey, Ron and I promised we would help you and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

I searched her eyes for a moment, seeing nothing but determination in her gaze and I knew she was not going to back down from this, she was coming, whether I liked it or not. I embraced her briefly, unbelievable thankful for getting a friend like her. 

“Are you girls coming?” Ron whispered, peeking around the doorframe and ushering quickly for us to come in. Hermione and I hurried in after him, only to be greeted by the sight of Fluffy dead asleep on the floor while Harry stood over him, playing his flute. I exhaled slowly as Hermione pulled the cloak off and closed the door behind us. 

“Snape’s already left his instrument behind,” Ron said, pointing a harp standing in the corner of the corridor, frowning deeply. Hot breath fanned over the four of us as we stepped around the three heads, our hair blowing back out of our faces. Ron was peering over Fluffy’s back in an effort to see the trapdoor now. “I think we’ll be able to pull the door open. Want to go first, Hermione?”

“No!”

“I’ll go,” I whispered before the two could start arguing as I carefully stepped around the dog’s legs, bending down to pick up the ring on the trapdoor. Ron stepped up next to me, taking it as well and the two of it swung it up and open.

“Can either of you see anything?” Hermione asked us anxiously. 

“No, it’s just black. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to climb down, we’ll have to drop,” I said, crouching down next to the hole and squinting my eyes in an effort to see something, anything that could determine how deep this hole was. “I think I should go first.”

Harry waved frantically to catch our attention and pointed to himself.

“You want to be the first one? You sure, Harry?” Ron asked, furrowing his brows. “I don’t know, it doesn’t look like we can determine how deep this thing goes. Here, give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep.”

Harry stopped playing and handed the flute over. The dog growled and twitched in the few second’s silence, but as soon as Hermione put the instrument to her lips, it stilled again and slipped back off into dreamland. 

Harry climbed over Fluffy, too, and stopped beside us, peering down into the bottomless abyss below before looking up at Ron and I, “Chey and I will go together.”

I nodded my head in agreement and took his offered hand before we both lowered ourselves through the hole until we were only hanging on by the fingertips of our free hands. We looked back up at Ron, “If anything happens, don’t follow, all right? Leave and head straight for the owlery, send Hedwig or Elon to Dumbledore.”

“All right,” Ron said, nodding in agreement.

“We’ll see you in a minute, hopefully,” I said with a small smile before we let go and fell down through old, damp air. It felt like an eternity passed as we fell, nothing but darkness surrounding us, the only knowledge that we were still there the tight grip we had on each other’s hands. And then –

FLUMP! Something soft cushioned our fall with a funny, muffled thump, causing me to lose grip on Harry as I bounced, blinking slowly in the gloom, my other senses heightening with the loss of sight. I frowned and sat up, feeling around. Was this a…a plant? Wha -?!

Something was quickly wrapping itself around my foot, causing me to squeal and scrambled backward, kicking at whatever was attempting to grab me. I slipped, falling backward onto hard stone, which I quickly grabbed at to pull myself the rest of the way off whatever I had landed on, scrambling to my feet to press my back against a cold, damp wall. I looked out over the twisting lump I had just escaped, my eyes adjusting enough that I was able to see Harry now, at least somewhat, my eyes widening at the sight of the snakelike tendrils creeping their way up his legs. Oh no…Devil’s Snare!He didn’t seem to notice, thought, his attention on something above. I looked up. 

High above, a small, square light shone down on us, only looking to about the size of a postal stamp. That must be the trap door. Harry was just calling out to Ron that it was safe enough for him to join us. I opened my mouth to tell him not too, but the light faded for a second as he came through, landing just a few short seconds later beside Harry in a sprawl poisition. 

“What is this stuff?” he asked as he tried to sit up. 

“Ron, get over here!” I hissed through clenched teeth, waving my arms in an attempt to get his attention. He glanced around for me, still adjusting to the gloom as well while Harry called to Hermione to come down next. “No, Hermione, don’t!” I yelled out, looking up at the square of light in time to hear the distant music above come to an abrupt halt. A loud bark came from Fluffy, echoing through the chamber we were in, but Hermione had already jumped through the trapdoor, landing safely on Harry’s other side, where I’d landed not moments before. 

“This place must be miles under the school,” she observed, looking around.

“Hermione, Devil’s Snare!” I called in a desperate attempt to get her attention before she, too, was ensnared by the plant currently wrapping it’s tendrils up both boys legs. She looked around at me as well, then at Harry and Ron, her eyes widening as she leapt to her feet and struggled over to where I was pressed back against the wall. I lunged forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her free of the plant’s grip before it could get a good enough grip on her, both of us watching in horror as the boys were slowly being bound with it’s tendrils, struggling now against its grip, although their struggles would only prove futile as it cause the plant to tight it’s grip more and more with each movement. 

“Don’t move!” Hermione told them quickly, her eyes as wide as plates. “Chey and I know what this is, it’s –“

“Devil’s Snare, yeah, we heard Chey the first time, thank you so much for the lesson!” Ron snapped as he leaned back as far as he was able to escape the plant as it tried wrapping a tendril around his neck. 

“Shh, Ron, we’re trying to remember how we can get rid of it!” I said, desperately trying to file through everything we’d learned in Herbology to find the right way to handle this. 

“Hurry up, I can’t breath!” Harry gasped as he wrestled with a tendril wrapping around his chest. 

“Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare, oh, what did it say…what did Professor Sprout tell us…?” Hermione groaned softly. 

“It likes the dark and damp?” I suggested feverently.

“Like a fire, then!” Harry wheezed.

“Of course, oh, b-but, we haven’t got any wood!” Hermione whimpered, wringing her hands. I gripped for my wand, pulling it out, “We don’t need wood, Hermione, we’re witches, not Muggles!” 

Inhaling sharply, she nodded and pulled her wand out as well, both of us muttering a simple spell that sent identical jets of bluebell flames at the Devil’s Snare. Within seconds, the plant was recoiling away from the light and warmth, loosening it’s hold on the two boys enough that they were able to pull free and join us by the wall. 

“Lucky the two’ve you pay attention in Herbology,” Harry said, wiping the sweat from his face. 

“Yeah and lucky Chey doesn’t lose her head during a crisis, ‘no wood’, honestly!” Ron huffed, shaking his head. 

“There’s a door over here,” Harry said, pointing to the entrance that led to a stone passageway paving our way forward. 

Our trip through the passage was mostly silent, the only sounds accompanying us that of our own footsteps and breathing, with the occasional drip of water trickling down the stone walls. Our path was gently curving downward, reminding me strangely of Gringotts, which brought with it the reminder of the dragons rumored to guard the wizards’ bank. Oh man…it had been tough enough having to deal with Norbert, but if we ran into a fully grown dragon…

“Can you hear that…?” Ron whispered suddenly, drawing out attention. 

Harry and I glanced at each other, listening for a moment until we could heard the sound of soft rustling and clinking coming from the chamber up ahead. 

“Could it be a ghost?”

“It…doesn’t sound like a ghost…sounds more like…wings?” I muttered, quirking a brow curiously as I looked at Harry again to see what he thought. Apparently, we were on the same page, per usual. “She’s right…and…I think I see something moving just a head, there’s light…”

We continued along until we reached the end of the passageway, stepping out into a large, brilliantly lit chamber, it’s ceiling arched high above. Overhead, there was a mass of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all throughout the room. And just ahead, on the opposite side of the chamber, we could see a heavy wooden door. 

“If we tried to cross, do you think they’d attack?” Ron asked, glancing around at the birds fluttering over our heads. 

“Probably…” Harry muttered, frowning. “They don’t look all that vicious, but if they all attacked together, it could probably do some damage….it doesn’t look like there’s any other choice, I’ll –“

“We’ll have to run.” I corrected him, taking his hand and giving him a firm look to tell him that that was final. He cast me a withering look and sighed, “Fine, we’ll run.”

Each of us taking a deep breath and covering our heads with our free hands, Harry and I sprinted across the room, waiting for the moment when we would feel those sharp, talon like claws and beaks tearing into her robes and skin, only to be pleasantly surprised when we managed to reach the door completely unscathed. We lowered our arms and he tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. 

Ron and Hermione joined us seconds later, all four of us taking turns tugging and heaving at the door, but it wouldn’t give an inch, not even when Hermione used the Alohomora charm.

“Now what do we do?” Ron asked.

I was looking up at the birds overhead now, my eyebrows frowned in thought as I tapped my chin, knowing they wouldn’t be held in this chamber without a good reason….it took a few moments of watching the light glimmer off them that it finally clicked. 

“These aren’t birds….” Harry and I said together, snapping our fingers, “These things are winged keys, if you look carefully, you’ll be able to see it. One of them must fit the lock.” Harry turned to study the chamber while Ron and Hermione squinted up at the flock of keys and I turned to examine the lock on the door. “Ah ha, look, broomsticks! We must have to catch the key that fits the lock.”

“How will we know which one to get, there are hundreds of them…” Hermione said.

“We’ll be looking for a big, old-fashioned key made of silver, just like the lock.” I pointed out, turning back to the others. 

Harry passed each of us a broomsticks and we all climbed on, kicking off into the air to soar amongst the cloud of keys. We grabbed and snatched at any and every one in reach, even as the bewitched keys darted and dived quickly out of the way, making it almost impossible to catch one.

Luckily, however, Harry and I hadn’t been named the youngest Seeker and Helper in over a century for nothing. Having been trained to look for a little ball of golden from hundreds of feet in the air amongst a slew of activity and blur of different colors, we both had a knack for spotting things not everyone else could see, so it was easier for us to spot the large silver key we were looking for amongst the whirlwind of rainbow feathers. It was flying rather slower than the others keys due to one of it’s wings being bent at an awkward angle, possibly from someone having already caught it and used it rather rougher than was necessary.

“It’s that one, over there!” Harry called to the others, pointing it out, “That big silver one – no, no, over there – it has bright blue wings with it’s feathers all crumpled on one side.”

Ron sped off in the direction Harry was pointing, only to crash into the ceiling and almost go toppling off his broom.

“It looks like we’ll have to close in on it!” I said without taking my eyes off the key. “Chey’s right. Ron, you come at the key from above, Hermione, go below and keep it from diving, Chey and I will come at it from the sides and try to catch it. Right, NOW!”

Ron dived while Hermione rocketed upward. The key whizzed out of the way, leaving Harry and I to chase after it toward the wall. Harry leaned forward, shooting his hand toward it, managing to pin the key to the stones with a nasty, crunching noise. Ron and Hermione cheered, their voices carrying throughout the chamber. 

We all landed quickly, Harry hurrying toward the door with the key stuggling in his hand. He jammed it in and turned, smiling when we heard the satisfying click that came with the door being unlocked. The key, meanwhile, took back off into the air once more, looking battering after having been used twice. 

“Ready?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione as he and I took the handle, waiting for them to nod in confirmation before we pulled the door open. We were greeted with darkness. 

Looking at one another quietly for a moment, Harry took my hand and led the way through, pausing when light suddenly broke the darkness, our eyes widening at the sight before us. 

We had stepped onto the edge of a life sized chessboard, where we were standing directly behind the black chessmen, all of them seeming to tower over us, gleaming brilliantly in the light, looking as though they had been carved from polished black stone. On the far side of the chamber were the white pieces, none of which, we were all mortified to discover, had no faces. 

“What’re we supposed to do now?” Harry asked. 

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Ron said, looking between both sets before us. “In order to get across, we need to beat the white pieces.”

He was right; just behind the white pieces, we could see another door that would lead onto the next chamber. 

“But…how?” Hermione asked nervously. 

“I think…” Ron said with a frown, “We may have to play as chess pieces.”

Without another word, he walked up to the knight closest to us and reached out to touch the motionless horse. It immediately came to life as the horse pawed the ground while it’s rider peered down at Ron through his helmet. 

“To get across, do we – er – do we have to join you?”

The knight nodded while Ron turned back to us. 

“This is going to need some thinking….” He said, rubbing his chin. “Hm, suppose we’ll need to take four of the black pieces’ place…” 

Neither Harry, Hermione, nor I said a word as we watched Ron think it over before he finally spoke again, “Now, I don’t want any of you to be offended, but none of you are really all that great at chess –“

“We’re not offended, Ron,” I told him with a reassuring smile, cocking my head slightly. “Just tell us what you want us to do.”

“Well…Harry, why don’t you take the place of the bishop, while Hermione and Chey take the castles’ places.”

“What’re you going to be?”

“I’ll be a knight.” Ron told us with a nod. 

The black pieces seemed to have been listening in on the conversation because at Ron’s words, a knight, bishop, and both castles turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving the appropriate spaces blank for the four of us to take. 

“White always makes the first move,” Ron told us, looking across the board at the white pieces. “Yeah, look…”

A white pawn moved forward two spaces. 

Ron back to direct the black pieces across the board. They seemed to trust his judgements because they moved silently wherever he saw fit to send them. I was doing my best not to lose my nerve as I watched the game play out, wringing my hands nervously in the bottom of my shirt, wondering for a moment what would happen if we were to lose. 

“Harry – go diagonally right for four squares.”

We didn’t receive our first real shock until our other knight was taken by the white queen, who mercilessly smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, leaving him to lay face down on the ground.

“I had to let that happen….” Ron said shakily, gulping. “That leaves you open to take their bishop, Hermione, go on.”

The white pieces showed absolutely no mercy when it came to taking one of our men and it wasn’t long until there was a huddle of limp black players slumped by the edge of the board. There were even a couple of times where Harry, Hermione, or I was close to being captured ourselves, although Ron was sure to direct all of us out of harm’s way just time while he darted around the board himself, taking just as many white pieces as we had lost.

“Almost there,” Ron muttered as we neared the end of the game. “Just one more move, we just –“

The white queen was slowly turning her blank face toward him.

“That’s it….” He sighed softly, looking blankly back at her. “It’s the only way we’ll be able to win…I have to be taken.”

“NO!” Harry and Hermione shouted as I put my hands over my mouth. 

“If I don’t get taken, then we won’t be able to win, that’s what happens in chess!” Ron snapped, frowning at us, “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. I take one step forward and the queen will take me, which will leave Harry free to checkmate the king!”

“B-but, Ron –“

“Don’t the three of you want to stop Snape?”

“Yeah…”

“We don’t stand around talking about this now, if you don’t hurry, he’ll have already gotten the Stone!”

There wasn’t any other way around it.

“The three of you ready?” Ron called, all color drained from his face, although it was set into a determined frown. “Here I go – be sure not to hang around after you’ve won, all right?”

He stepped forward and queen immediately pounced, striking him hard across the head with her stone arm. He crashed limply to the floor and didn’t move; Hermione’s scream echoed through the chamber and her hands flew to her mouth as Harry and I watched with wide eyes from our squares as Ron was dragged off to join the rest of the captured black pieces. It looked as though he’d been knocked out. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry moved left three squares. 

As soon as he stood in front of the white king, the faceless piece removed his crown and threw it down at Harry’s feet. We won….The white pieces parted and bowed, allowing us a clear path to the net door. Glancing desperately back at Ron over our shoulders, Harry, Hermione, and I charged through it onto the next passage.

“D-do you think he’s –“

“I’m sure Ron’s okay,” Harry said reassuringly, although I could tell he didn’t seem all that certain himself. “What do you two think is next?”

“W-well…we’ve gotten past Professor Sprout’s, which was the Devil’s Snare….” I said, counting off on one finger. 

“Then there was the charm on the keys, that must have been Flitwick’s work.” Hermione pointed out while I ticked off another finger. 

“It was probably McGonagall’s spell for the chessmen to make them come alive. That must mean we only have Quirrell and Snape’s left…”

We reached the next door.

“You two ready?” Harry whispered, his hand on the door. Hermione and I nodded and he pushed it open. 

Upon entry, our noses were assaulted with a putrid smell that caused all three of us to immediately pull our robes up over our noses in an effort to filter the air before our gag reflects kicked in. Blinking rapidly to clear the tears from our eyes, our eyes fell on the sight of a troll knocked out on the floor before us, a bloody lump blossoming on it’s head. It looked even larger than the one we’d had to face on Halloween.

“Glad we didn’t have to face this one,” Harry said with a shudder as we all stepped carefully around the creature. “Let’s hurry, I can’t breath in here.”

He opened the next door, all three of us bracing for what could come next – however, the next task wasn’t all that terrifying, we soon came to realize, as we stepped into the next chamber to discover a long table with seven differently shaped bottles all standing upon it in a straight line. 

“This must be Snape’s,” Harry said, looking up and down the line. “What’re we supposed to do?”

Just as we stepped over the threshold, a fire sprang to life just behind us, it’s bellowing flames a rich purple color, while at the other end of the chamber, a black fire sprang up to block the door leading on. We were trapped. 

“Look over here,” Hermione said, drawing our attention to the roll of paper she’d seized from the table. Harry and I leaned over to read what it said over her shoulder:

Danger looms ahead, while safety is behind,

Only two of us shall help you, that is, if you can find,

One shall help you move ahead,

While another brings you back, instead,

Two of us are simple nettle wine,

While three of us are killers, hidden among the ranks.

Chose whichever of it is, if you do not wish to stay.

Four hints will be given to help your choice:

First, no matter how slyly the poison hides

It can always be found on nettle wine’s left side;

Second, those who stand on either end, are different as day and night,

Although if you wish to move forward, neither is your friend;

Third, it can clearly be seen we are different,

But neither dwarf nor giant holds death within itself;

Lastly, although different at first side, those second to last

Are twins upon their tasting. 

Hermione and I sighed together while Harry, looking amazed and lost at the same time, looked at the two of us in surprise at the smiles on our faces. 

“This is brilliant,” I whispered, gently taking the paper from Hermione, who nodded her agreement. “This isn’t even magic at all, it’s logic, pure, simple logic.”

Harry frowned, “What’re you talking about….?”

Hermione looked at him with the same beaming smile, “Don’t you see what this is, Harry? A puzzle! If any of the great wizards were to try to interpret this, they’d probably be stuck here forever.”

“Then…doesn’t that mean we will be, too?”

“No, of course not,” Hermione said, waving that off. “Don’t you see, we’ve got everything we need right here on this paper. It’s telling us that there are seven bottles –“

“Three of which are poison –“ I said, nodding. 

“While two are simply whine –“

“One will get us safely through the black fire –“

“While the other will get us back through the purple.”

“But…how do the two of you know which we need to drink in order to do that?’

“We don’t yet, we just need a minute.”

Hermione and I went over the riddle several times before we started walking up and down along the row of bottles, muttering quietly to one another as we sorted out which bottles were which. Finally, when we were sure we had it figure out, we high five each other. 

“We’ve got it!” she said, turning to Harry again, “The potion in the smallest bottle will help us advance,”

Harry looked at the little bottle.

“But…it looks like there’s only enough for one, maybe two people….” He said softly with a frown, “It hardly looks like there’s enough for a couple of swallows.”

We all stopped and looked at one another. 

“Which one takes us back through the purple fire?” 

I pointed out the rounded bottle standing at the right end of the line. 

“I want you two to drink that,” Harry said. “Get back to the chamber where we left Ron and get out through the trapdoor with a couple of broomsticks from the flying-key room, they’ll help you get past Fluffy, too. From there, I want the two of you to go straight to the owlery to send either Hedwig or Elon to Dumbledore, we really need him right now. I’ll go on ahead and try to stall Snape as long as I can, hopefully it’ll be enough.”

“And what if Voldemort is with him, Harry?” I asked with a frown, crossing my arms.

“I’ll see if luck’s on my side tonight,” Harry said, pointing to his scar and turning to pick up the littlest bottle. I snatched it from him and frowned, “You are NOT going on to face him on your own, Harry Potter, not if I have anything to say about it. The last couple of times, we faced Voldemort together and that’s how it’s going to be tonight. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.” I told him sternly, taking his other hand. He looked quietly at me a moment, frowning deeply himself, “But Chey….

“No Harry, I won’t let you go on a lone and I’m not going to lose you…”

Harry looked me over for a moment before he finally sighed, smiling lightly and nodding his head in agreement, “All right, we’ll go on together….Hermione, you go on back and contact Dumbledore, all right?”

When we turned to Hermione, we were surprised to see her lip trembling and her eyes glazed over with tears. Without warning, she dashed across the room and threw her arms around the two of us. We blinked in surprise and each put a hand on her back.

“Hermione?”

“Harry, Chey…you’re both a great witch and wizard, you know.”

“Aw, Hermione…we’re not as good as you, though….” I admitted shyly as she pulled back, smiling at the two of us.

“Me?” She said, shaking her head, “I’m all books and cleverness…there are so much more important things, friendship and bravery and….oh, Harry, Cheyenne, please, be careful.”

“Why don’t you drink first,” Harry suggested, giving her a gentle smile. “Both of you are sure you know which bottle is which, right?”

“We’re positive,” Hermione and I said, nodding together. She picked up the larger bottle and took a long swig from it, shuddering.

“It isn’t poison, is it?” Harry asked her anxiously, his eyebrows knitting.

“No, it – it just fels like ice.”

“All right, now you’d better hurry, before it wears off.” I told her, squeezing her arm slightly, reassuringly. 

“Good luck, you two – take care –“

“Hurry!” Harry warned her, watching as she turned and walked back through the purple fire. Harry and I finally turned to one another and nodded together, taking a deep breath while I uncorked the small bottle in my hand. 

“Here we go,” I sighed softly, taking a small sip of the potion before handing it to Harry with a shudder, feeling like ice was quickly flooding through my body while he drained the last of the potion in one gulp, shuddering himself. Putting the bottle down, he took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as we turned to face the black flames. Taking a deep breath together, we moved forward, bracing ourselves for the heat, which never came as we stepped into the heart of the fire, seeing the flames lick at our bodies, even though we couldn’t feel them. For a moment, we could see nothing but dark flames, but then we were standing on the other side, in the last chamber. 

And standing before us was the person we had come chasing after, but it wasn’t Snape, nor was it even Voldemort.


	17. Two-Faced Man

Standing before us was the absolute last person we had ever thought to find in a place like this: Quirrell. 

“Pr-Prof-Professor Quirrell!” I stuttered in shock, my eyes widening as Harry could only stare in silence. Quirrell simply smiled at us without the smallest sign of a twitch. 

“Yes, it’s me,” he said in a strangely calm voice. “I wondered for a while if the two of you would show up tonight.” 

“But…but we thought – Snape –“

“Ah yes, Severus,” Quirrell said, laughing steadily in a cold, sharp way, vastly different from his usual quivering treble. “Yes, Severus really does seem the type, doesn’t he? It’s made him rather useful to use as a distraction as he always seems to be swooping around like some giant bat. With him, no one would think to suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell.”

Neither Harry nor I knew how to react to this news, it was just….a great deal to take in. This….this couldn’t possibly be true, it….could it?

“But…but Snape tried to kill the two of us.”

“No, he wasn’t the one trying to kill the two of you, I was the one trying to kill you. Unfortunately for me, in her haste to get to Snape and stop him, your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over during the Quidditch match, breaking my eye contact with Power. Even with Snape muttering his little countercurse, if I’d been able to continue a few seconds longer, I would have had her off that broom.”

“S-Snape tried….tr-tried to save us?” 

“Of course he did,” Quirrell replied coolly. “Why else would he have wanted to referee the next match, hm? He wanted to be sure I didn’t get another chance to hurt one of you. He needn’t have bothered, though, considering I couldn’t do anything with Dumbledore watching over everything. Everyone else thought Snape just wanted to stop Gryffindor from winning, he really did make himself rather unpopular, didn’t he? However, all his efforts would be in vain, considering I’ll be killing the two of you tonight.”

Quirrell snapped his fingers, which caused ropes to spring out of thin air. Before either Harry or I could react, they wrapped themselves tightly around the two of us, trapping us in place, shoulder to shoulder.

“The two of you are too nosy to be allowed to live, Powter. Scurrying around like you both were on Halloween night, for all I knew, the two of you could have spotted me trying to sneak a peek at what was guarding the Stone.” 

“Y-you’re th-the one who le-let the troll in?!”

“Of course, I have a natural ability when it comes to trolls – the two of you must have seen what happened to that troll in one of the chambers back there, yes? Unfortunately, though, while everyone had gone to the dungeons to find the troll, Snape, who already suspected my treachery, went to head me off on the third floor – and to top it all off, not only did the two of you escape unscathed, but that stupid three-headed dog didn’t manage to properly bite Snape’s leg off.

“Now, why don’t the two of you be a couple of good kids and wait there quietly, Powter. I need some time to examine this fascinating mirror.”

It was then that we spotted what was standing behind Quirrell: the Mirror of Erised!

“This mirror is the key needed to find the Stone,” he murmured as he circled it slowly, tapping at certain places on the fame as though looking for a hidden compartment. “Of course, Dumbledore would be the one to come up with something as ingenious as this….but, he’s away in London…and by the time he comes back, I’ll be long gone…”

Harry and I looked at each other out of the corner of her eyes and I knew he was thinking the same as I was: if we wanted to stop Quirrell, we would need to keep him talking to keep him from concentrating fully on the mirror. 

“Chey and I saw you and Snape meet in the forest –“ Harry blurted out quickly, returning his attention to our teacher. 

“Hm, yes, we did…” Quirrell replied idly as he circled around to the back of the mirror again for a closer look. “By that time, he was onto me and trying to figure out how much I knew. Of course, he had suspected me all along and tried to frighten me off – but he must know it’s fruitless, nothing can scare me so long as Lord Voldemort is by my side.”

Quirrell came around the other side of the mirror and turned to stare hungrily at his reflection. 

“I can see the Stone…I’m presenting it proudly to my master, but where is it?!”

Harry and I began to wiggle around in the ropes that bound us, trying to loosen them, but they wouldn’t give. We had to stop Quirrell from looking in that mirror, we had to do something to get his attention away from it. 

“B-but…but ho-how come…how come Sn-Snape always a-acts like he ha-hates Harry a-and I s-s-so much?”

“You think he’s acting?” Quirrell asked, chuckling lowly as though having just heard a good joke, “no, no, you see, he really does hate the two of you, so very much. Didn’t either of you know he went to Hogwarts with both your fathers? The two of them loathed him and he loathed them. But that didn’t mean he wanted either of you dead.”

“But…but a few days ago, Chey and I….we heard you sobbing – we thought Snape threatened you….”

Quirrell pause in his actions as the first spasm of fear we’d seen since we arrived flitted across his face. 

“Sometimes….” He said in a quieter voice than before, “It’s….it’s hard to follow my master’s instructions and I’m not…I’m not able to follow his orders….it’s no surprise, though…he is a strong wizard, while I am weak –“

My heart twisted in my chest, the blood draining from my face, “S-s-so you’re sa-saying h-he was i-in the….the cl-class-classroom w-wi-with you?!” I gasped, my eyes widening. 

“My master goes wherever I go,” Quirrell told us quietly. “I first met him when I had traveled the world, back when I was still such a foolish young man, so full of dreams and ridiculous ideas about good and evil. But Lord Voldemort showed me the error of my ways, showed me the true path of life. There truly is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to strife for it….And ever since, I have loyally obeyed him, served him, even if I have let him down many more times than I wish I had. He’s had to punish me more than once.” Quirrell shivered fearfully, his face paling. “Mistakes are not forgiven easily. He was most displeased when I failed to take the Stone from Gringotts and decided it best if he kept a closer eye on me….”

Quirrell’s throat closed, preventing him from continuing. I felt my insides wiggle and knot in anger at myself for not realizing sooner: the day Harry and I had gone to Diagon Ally, we had seen Quirrell, had shaken his hand. How could we have not figured it out?

Quirrell cursed, bringing us crashing back to earth.

“I simply do not understand this puzzle…do I need to break the mirror get the Stone?”

My mind wouldn’t settle, racing with so many different thoughts it was hard to focus on one. But there was one thought I focused solely on, I needed to focus on.

“The thing I want most in this world, the thing I want most at this moment in time, I NEED at this point in time,” I told myself. ‘is to find the Sorcerer’s Stone before Quirrell. If Harry and I can look in the mirror, we’ll be able to find it and take it before he can, we’ll be able to know where it’s hidden. But…how would we be able to look in the mirror without catching Quirrell’s attention?’

Exchanging a contemplative look with Harry, the two of us silently agreed we would try to get around Quirrell to look in the mirror without him noticing so we tried inching to the left. Unfortunately, though, the ropes binding our ankles were too tight, which caused us to trip and fall on the floor, Harry giving a loud ‘oof’ and I stuttering out a quick apology as I landed on top of him. Quirrell continued to ignore us, his focus solely on the mirror as he muttered ideas to himself. 

“What does this mirror do exactly? How could I work it to my advantage….? Master, please, help me.”

As I was trying to wiggle around so I could roll off Harry, a new voice broke the silence that followed, this one high pitched, cold and snake-like, a voice….that came from Quirrell himself, even though his lips had not moved. 

“Use the boy….and the girl….”

Quirrell immediately rounded on the two of us.

“Yes – Powter, come over here, now!”

He clapped once, causing the ropes binding Harry and I to disappear. I quickly rolled off Harry and got up, gently taking his arm to help him to his feet as well. 

“Come along, loverbirds, we don’t have all night,” Quirrell sneered, his lips curling as he watched us. “I want the two of you to look into this mirror and tell me what you both see.” 

Taking each other’s hands, Harry and I walked toward him, squeezing tightly, both of us telling the other the same thing. We had to lie, tell Quirrell anything else but what we actually saw. 

Quirrell skirted around behind the two of us, so close I could practically feel his breath on the back of my neck. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm my nerves, my whole body shaking as I took in the scent coming off Quirrell’s turban. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took the last step forward, then opened them once more. 

A scared, pale-faced eleven year old girl stared back at me, her hazel eyes wide behind her thin, wiry glasses as she clutched onto the hand of the equally scared boy beside her. It only took a moment before both seemed to relax, however, the fear leaving their faces as color returned to their cheeks and knowing smiles touched their lips. Harry’s reflection lifted his free hand to his lips, pressing his index finger against them in a shushing manner before he nodded toward mine. My gaze flinted back to her, my breath catching in my throat at the sight of her holding her free hand up to just about face level, a blood-red stone clutched in her fist. Both of them winked and she reached down to put the Stone in her pocket – at that same instant, I felt a sudden weight drop into mine. My free hand lightly brushed against it, my heart rate picking up – I had the Stone!

“Well, what do the two of you see?” Quirrell asked us impatiently, his reflection frowning at the two of us. 

Harry squeezed my hand tightly, taking in a deep breath.

“Chey and I see ourselves shaking hands with Dumbledore,” he breathed out. “We’ve….we’ve won the house cup.”

Quirrell cursed loudly once more, shoving the two of us out of the way.

“Move aside,” he growled, moving to take our place. Harry quickly maneuvered himself between Quirrell and myself, pushing me a few feet away, both of us exchanging another glance, contemplating making a run for it as the Stone brushed against my leg. I covered it quickly with my hand, readying myself. 

However, before we’d even made it five steps, the same high voice from before spoke again, making us freeze.

“They lie….”

“Powter, come back here this minute!” Quirrell shouted after us. “Tell me what the two of you just saw!”

Before either of us could think of what to say, the high voice spoke once more. 

“Let me speak to them….face-to-face…”

Quirrell paled once more, “But Master, you aren’t strong enough yet!”

“I’m strong enough…for this…”

My limbs locked together as a heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach and in the soles of my feet, preventing me from being able to move. I could hardly even breath as I watched in horror as Quirrell reached up to begin unwrapping his turban. What…what was happening? Why…why was he? The turban fell away, leaving Quirrell’s head looking smaller than usual without it. He turned slowly on the spot.

My throat closed around the scream threatening to escape my lips, preventing me from making a single sound. Where the back of Quirrell’s head should be, there was a second face, a truly terrifying face I had ever seen in my entire life. Staring out through chalk white eyelids was a pair of blazing red eyes over a pair of snake-like slits for a nose. 

“Harry Potter….Cheyenne Power….” It whispered. 

My lungs felt about ready to collapse from lack of oxygen and the instinct to turn and run shot through my veins, even though it didn’t break the ice that kept me frozen in place. 

“Do you both see what I have become?” it hissed. “Only shadow and vapor…the only way I’m able to have any kind of form is if I share with another….thankfully there have been those willing to allow me into their hearts and minds….Unicorn blood has given me strength these past few weeks….the two of you saw Quirrell faithfully drinking it for me in the forest….but once I’ve acquired the Elixir of Life, I’ll be able to create a new body for myself…Now, Power…why don’t you hand over that Stone in your pocket?”

My heart stuttered, tripping over itself; he knew! Harry stumbled sideways, putting himself between Voldemort and I as he backed us away. 

“Don’t be fools,” he snarled. “It would be better to save your own lives and join me….neither of you would want to meet the same end as your parents, would you? They all did die begging for mercy.”

“You’re a liar, our parents wouldn’t do something like that!” Harry and I shouted together. 

Quirrell started walking backward toward us so Voldemort could still see us. His thin white lips had curled upward into a demented smile. 

“How touching….” He hissed. “I’ve always valued true bravery….Even both your parents were brave…I killed your fathers first, they did put up quite the fight….but neither of your mothers needed to die, really….they tried protecting you both…Now hand over that Stone or they will have died in vain.”

“NEVER!”

Harry and I whirled and sprinted toward the flame door while Voldemort screamed at Quirrell to seize us. Next second, I was yanked to a stop as Quirrell grabbed Harry’s wrist, pulling him backward. Harry yelled out in pain, his arms flailing, losing grip on my hand as he caught me in the side. I stumbled forward a foot, whirling quickly in place to face him in time to stop him from collapsing to his knees. Just feet away, Quirrell was hunched in pain, watching his fingers blister angrily before his eyes. 

“Seize them! SEIZE THEM NOW!” Voldemort shrieked again, prompting Quirrell to lunge at us again. Without thinking, I automatically shoved Harry out of the way, taking all of Quirrell’s weight as he knocked me clean off my feet, pinning me to the floor, his hands clamping tight around my throat – I gasped, struggling in his hold as my scar exploded with pain, my vision swimming with white. 

The next second, however, I felt Quirrell get yanked off me and the wind rushed back into my lungs, scratching my raw throat. The white in my vision slowly dispersed and I blinked slowly, staring at the blots of color slowly turning into the forming face of my best friend, who was frowning down at me worriedly, his brows furrowed. He helped me sit up slowly.

“Chey, are you okay?” he asked softly, one hand on the small of my back. I shook my head slowly, blinking as I looked around, nodding, “Y-yeah, I….I’m okay….” 

“Just breath, okay? We’ll be okay. Look,” he pointed to where Quirrell had fallen. He was shaking badly, staring at his hands, which were smoking, shining bright red. 

“He can’t touch us, Chey!” he managed to get out before Quirrell knocked into him from behind, knocking him onto the ground like he had me, readying to perform a deadly curse. My instinct kicked in again and I lunged at him, wrapping an arm tight around his neck, cutting into his wind pipe while my nails raked across Voldemort’s face. 

“AAAARGH!”

Quirrell reared back, rolling off Harry and onto me, knocking the air from my lungs as he tried to dislodge me while his skin blistered from my touch. Harry was right, Quirrell couldn’t touch either of us skin to skin without suffering great pain. If we could just keep him in enough pain, we could stop him from performing any kind of curse. 

Harry jumped up, yanking Quirrell up, latching onto his arm and hanging on for dear life. Quirrell screamed, thrashing about as he tried dislodging the two of us, the pain whizzing through my system again, exploding through my skull. My vision went white – my head pounded, blood thundering around my temples – Quirrell’s shrieks and Voldemort’s screams of ‘KILL THEM!’ echoed in my ears, while another voice called my and Harry’s names. 

Quirrell wretched violently one last time, throwing me from his shoulders. All I knew now was weightless nothingness, darkness pressing in on all sides….and then…nothing…

 

I don’t know how long I was suspended in that darkness, left to wander aimlessly. Small flashes of light would come and go at random points in time, so fast and yet far between it was difficult to make out what they were or when the next one would come. Low murmurs sometimes accompanied these flashes of light, voices spoken in such low tones words couldn’t be made out clearly yet, although once in a great while, I could distinguish my and Harry’s names from the jumble.

Harry… My best friend’s name jolted something in me, chasing away the darkness that had enveloped itself around me, a weight that chased away the weightlessness. More flashes of light, slower this time so I was better able to get a look at them….Quirrell….Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head…Harry….he….he was trying to get the Stone…screaming in pain….trying to…kill us….

“Harry!” I gasped, jolting upright and blinking around quickly, disoriented by the brightness of the room. As I adjusted to the lighting, I came to realize I was in the hospital wing of the castle, laying in a bed made up with white linen sheets. Quickly rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked around the room, noticing Harry sitting upright in the bed just beside mine. And sitting just beside him was Albus Dumbledore himself. 

“Good afternoon, Harry, Cheyenne,” he said with a soft smile. I stared at him quietly for a moment before my dreams came crashing back. I scrambled to get out of bed.

“Pro-Professor, please, you have to hurry! The Stone! Quirrell’s trying to steal the Stone!”

“Settle down, Harry, Cheyenne, I’m afraid both of you are a little behind the times,” Dumbledore said in a calm voice. “Quirrell hasn’t acquired the Stone.”

Harry and I paused at his words, confused, “But then…if he doesn’t have the Stone…who does?”

“Please, take a deep breath, you two, before Madam Pomfrey has me thrown out.”

Looking at one another in confusion, I moved to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed, taking his hand as I took a deep breath, trying to calm my breathing. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something stacked on the bedside table standing between my and Harry’s bed and when I turned to look, I was surprised to see what looked like half the candy shop. 

“I see you’ve noticed the tokens from your friends and admirers,” Dumbledore said, beaming. “What happened between the two of you and Quirrell down in the dungeons is a complete secret, so, natural, the whole school knows. I believe it was your friends, Misters Fred and George Weasley who were responsible for attempting to try to send the two of you a toilet seat in an effort to entertain the two of you. Madam Pomfrey, unfortunately, didn’t think it would be hygienic, and confiscated it, instead.”

“How long have we been here?”

“Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and miss Granger will be most pleased the two of you have come round, they’ve been worried.”

“B-but sir, th-the S-Stone, it –“

“I see the two of you are not to be deterred from your train of thought. Very well, I shall tell you both about the Stone. I arrived in time to prevent Professor Quirrell from taking the Stone from the two of you, although I must say, you both were handling things quite well without me.”

“You got there? Di-did you get Hermione’s owl, then?”

“Owl? Hm, I must have passed it on the way back. You see, no sooner had I arrived in London than I realized it wasn’t the place I needed to be, but rather, I needed to return to the place I had just left. I arrived just in time to get Quirrell off the two of you –“

“Y-you were the one -?”

“I had been afraid I was too late.”

“You almost were, neither Chey nor I would’ve been able to keep him off the Stone for much longer –“

“No, not the Stone, the two of you – you both put in a great deal of effort to protect the Stone and each other, so much so that both of you nearly died. When I arrived, I was afraid you both already had. And as for the Stone, it’s been destroyed.”

“Destroyed?” Harry and I asked blankly. “But…but what about your friend, Nicolas Flamel –“

“Oh, the two of you know Nicolas?” Dumbledore said in a delighted tone. “So you both did do your research. Well, after what happened, Nicolas and I had a nice little chat and we agreed it would all be for the best.”

“But…if the Stone’s gone, won’t Mister Flamel and his wife die?” 

“Both of them have enough Elixir on hand to be able to set their affairs in order before they pass on.”

Dumbledore chuckled softly at the astonishment and amazement on my and Harry’s faces. 

“I’m sure to a couple of youngsters like you, it may seem quite incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, to finally move onto the next life, it will be like going to bed after a very long day. To a well-organized mind, death is only like the next great adventure. And besides, the Stone isn’t really that great a thing. Giving you bountiful riches and life….really, those are the two things human beings choose above all else, the only trouble is, humans always have a knack for choosing exactly the wrong thing.” 

Harry and I blinked slowly together, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed softly as he leaned back in his chair, smiling up at the ceiling. 

“U-um, sir?” I paused, chewing my bottom lip thoughtfully. “We were just…curious, wha – even with the Stone gone, won’t Vol – I-I mean….You-Know-Who –“

“You can disperse with the nickname, Cheyenne, please just call him Voldemort. It’s always best to just use the proper name. To fear a name is to increase the fear of the thing itself.”

“Y-yes sir….erm, well….won’t Voldemort try to find other ways to come back…? He isn’t really gone, is he?”

“No, I’m afraid he isn’t Harry, Cheyenne. He’s still lurking out there somewhere, looking for another body to share, perhaps….seeing as he’s not truly alive, he cannot die. He truly has little mercy for his followers and his enemies, seeing as he left Quirrell to die after he failed. Unfortunately, though, Harry, Cheyenne, the two of you may have only staved off his return to power for a while longer, for you see, it merely takes one person who is prepared to fight what could be a losing battle next time – but then, if Voldemort is simply delayed again and again, there could be a chance he isn’t able to ever return to power.”

I started to nod in agreement when my head started to pound in pain and I quickly stopped, my vision swimming for a moment before righting itself once more. Harry cleared his throat a little to speak again, “Sir…there are just…um…a few things Chey and I want to know, if you’re able to tell us, that is….they’re just…things we want to know the truth about….”

“The truth…” Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. “it can be both a beautiful and terrible thing, so it should be handled with great care. However, I shall answer your questions to the best of my abilities, unless I have a very good reason not to, for which I beg both your forgiveness. Although, I promise you both this, I will not lie.”

“Well…” Harry paused, glancing quietly at me with a frown. I stared at my lap, playing with the material of my pants. “Voldemort…told us he’d only had to kill our mothers because they were protecting us….why…why would he want to kill Chey and I in the first place?”

Dumbledore sighed deeply now. 

“Alas, the very first question I’m asked, I’m not able to answer, not today, at least. One day, you both will know, but for now, just put it from both your minds. You’ll both know when you’re older…I know you both hate to hear such things, but when you’re both ready, you’ll know.”

Neither Harry nor I could find anything to say to argue his point, so we both remained silent. 

“But…with Quirrell…how…why couldn’t he touch either of us?”

“Both your mothers died in order to save you and if there’s one thing Voldemort’s unable to understand, it’s love. He wasn’t able to realize just how powerful your mothers’ love was or how it could leave it’s own mark on the two of you. It can’t be seen visibly, like a scar….to be loved so deeply, even with the person who provided that love being gone, it will give us a special kind of protection forever. It’s attached to both your skin. Quirrell was so full of hatred, greed, and ambition, binding his soul with Voldemort’s, he couldn’t touch either of you for these simple reasons. It was pure agony for him to touch anyone marked with something so pure.”

A bird chirping outside the window caught our headmaster’s attention, giving Harry and I the chance to wipe our eyes on his bedsheet, smiling weakly at one another as we did so. It took us a couple of minutes to find our voices again, but once we did, we asked, “Our Invisbility Cloaks, sir – do you know who sent them to us?”

“Ah yes, your fathers just so happened to have left those cloaks in my possession before they passed on and I thought the two of you might like them,” Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Quite useful, aren’t they? Both your fathers would use them mainly to sneak off to the kitchens to steal food while they still attended school.”

“There’s just one more thing….”

“Ask away.”

Harry and I exchanged glances, “Well, Quirrell said Snape –“

“Professor Snape, Harry.” Dumbledore corrected gently. 

“Y-yes, Professor Snape….Quirrell told us Professor Snape hated us because….well…”

“Because he hated our fathers….is it true?”

“Well, your fathers did quite detest Snape, almost as much as you yourselves detest Mr. Malfoy. But…your fathers did do something Snape could never bring himself to forgive.”

“Wh-what’s that?”

“They saved his life.”

“What?” 

“Yes indeed…” Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully, chuckling once more, “Funny, just how people’s mind’s seem to work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bare the thought of being in either of your father’s debts….I believed he worked as hard as he did this year to protect the two of you because he was trying to repay them for what they’d done for him. And then he could return to hating both your fathers with the same passion as before.”

Harry and I looked at one another with wide eyes, trying to comprehend all this, only to have to stop because it brought our headaches back with a vengeance. In the seconds of silence that followed, one other thing occurred to me.

“Si-Sir, there’s….there’s ju-just one m-m-more th-thing I-I wanted to a-ask about….” I looked at him slowly.

“Just one more?”

“Y-yes, I-I wanted t-t-to know….h-how did I g-get the Stone? H-How did I-I get i-it out of th-the mirror?”

“Ah ha, yes, I’m quite delighted you thought of asking me this, Cheyenne. You see, it was one of my more brilliant ideas and just between the two of you and myself, that is really saying something. For one to want to seek the Stone – find it, yet not use it – would be the true finder of it. Otherwise, they would only see an image of themselves with the Stone, either using it to make gold or drinking the Elixir of Life. Even my brain amazes me sometimes….Now, I think that’s enough questions for now. I would suggest to the two of you that you start eating these sweets before they’re wasted. Ah! Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! When in my youth, I had thought to try these myself, yet had the misfortune to come across a vomit flavored one, which has quite put me off of them since –“ Harry and I exchanged grossed out faces, but then laughed together, smiling at our headmaster, “I think perhaps it would be safe if I tried for a nice toffee this time, don’t you both think?”

Harry and I indicated for him to go ahead and he smiled gratefully in return, popping a golden-brown bean into his mouth. He shuddered and coughed almost immediately, “Alas! Ear wax!”

 

Over the next few days were spent in the hospital wing, Harry and I were reminded of how kind the nurse, Madam Pomfrey, could be. However, she could still be quite strict, too.

“Please Madam Pomfrey, can’t they come in for just five minutes?” I pleaded with her as she was fixing the sheets on my bed.

“Absolutely not.”

“But you let Professor Dumbledore visit us.” Harry pointed out. 

“Professor Dumbledore is the headmaster of this school, that is quite different. You both need to rest.”

“But we are resting, we haven’t left our beds,” she gave me a stern look and a scowl. I quickly avoided her gave, rubbing the back of my neck and blushing, “since his visit….but look, Harry and I’re both laying in our individual beds and resting. Please Madam Pomfrey….”

“Oh…very well,” she sighed, finally conceding, “But just five minutes.”

She hurried to let Ron and Hermione inside. 

“Harry, Cheyenne!”

Hermione looked about ready to fling herself at the two of us, but managed to stop herself just in time, which made me very grateful since my head was still quite sore from our adventure. I smiled gratefully at her as she simply took a seat between my and Harry’s beds, squeezing the hand she put in mine while Ron stood by Harry. 

“Oh Harry, Chey, we were both so worried, we thought – but then Dumbledore –“

“The whole school’s talking about what happened,” Ron said. “But…what really did happen down there?”

Harry and I exchanged looks and laughed together, having known someone was bound to ask us this sooner or later and began telling the two of them about our fight with Quirrell. It was funny, seeing as this was one of those rare occasions when what really happened was a great deal more exciting than the rumors. We took turns telling them about what we faced, about Quirrell and the mirror, how we’d gotten the Stone and faced Voldemort himself. Both Ron and Hermione were a perfect audience, making all the appropriate noises at exactly the right times. And when we told them exactly what had been under Quirrell’s turban, Hermione actually screamed.

“So the Stone’s actually gone?” Ron asked when we were finished. “Flamel and his wife are just going to die?”

“That’s what Dumbledore told us,” I sighed with a nod, smiling at Harry, “But he also said that when they do, they’ll be going onto the next great adventure and that it’s like they’re both just going to bed after a very long day.”

“Yeah, but there was something he said I liked….um, oh right, ‘to a well-organized mind, death is not but the next great adventure.”

“I always knew he was off his rocker,” Ron said with a fond smile, shaking his head at just how crazy his hero could be. 

“We next found out what happened to the two of you after we left you.” I pointed out, cocking my head slightly. 

“Oh, don’t worry, we got back all right,” Hermione said reassuringly, smiling. “It took a while to bring Ron back ‘round, but I managed and then we hurried to send an owl to Dumbledore, but we ended up meeting him in the entrance hall. He didn’t even need to be told what happened, he already knew. He just asked if the two of you had gone after Quirrell and left before we could answer.”

“D’you think he planned this?” Ron asked thoughtfully. “Planned for the two of you to go and save the Stone, after sending you both your fathers cloaks and all?”

“That’s rather irresponsible, though, isn’t it?” Hermione said, puffing her cheeks indignantly. “I mean, what if something worst had happened to the two of you, what if you both were killed?”

“It isn’t such a terrible thing, though,” I hummed, rubbing my chin slowly. “Dumbledore’s a strange man, but I think he wanted to at least give Harry and I a chance, a chance to do something ourselves.”

“Chey’s right, besides, I’m pretty sure Dumbledore knows everything that goes on around here, you know. He probably knew we were going to try something and instead of stopping us, he showed how much he trusted us by giving little clues to help us along the way. It doesn’t seem like an accident that Chey and I found out how the mirror worked.”

“Yeah, like Dumbledore thought it was our right to face Voldemort ourselves…”

“Dumbledore’s definitely off his rocker,” Ron chuckled proudly. “But listen, you’ve both got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. All the points were added up and Slytherin’s won, naturally – and without either of you in the last Quidditch match, we got steamrollered by Ravenclaw – but I’ve heard the food’s going to be fantastic.”

Madam Pomfrey decided to come bustling over at that very moment, interrupting our conversation.

“All right, enough visiting, you four’ve had nearly fifteen minutes, c’mon, out.” She said firmly.

 

After another restful night’s sleep, Harry and I felt back to our normal selves and were ready and rearing to go down to the feast. 

“We’re allowed to go, aren’t we?” I asked Madam Pomfrey late that morning, frowning worriedly. “To the feast, I mean?”

“Professor Dumbledore says you both have permission to go,” she sniffed haughtily, as though she thought the two of us going to the feast was akin to us getting on our broomsticks and flying around as soon as we walked out of the hospital wing. “Oh and you both have another visitor.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Harry said, positively beaming now. “Who is it?”

Hagrid came sidling into view as he spoke, looking much too big for the room just as he always did when he was indoors. He took the seat between my and Harry’s beds, too one look at the two of us, and burst into tears, startling both of us.

“It’s – all – my – ruddy – fault!” he wailed, hiding his face in his hands. “I was the one who told that evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I betrayed yeh two and Dumbledore! It was the last thing he didn’t know, an’ I jus’ told ‘im! Yeh both could’ve died! Jus’ cuz I wanted a dragon egg! I’ll get go ter the pub again! I should be fired, chucked out an’ made inter a Muggle!”

Looking at Harry with wide-eyes, I turned to the giant, scooting forward to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Hagrid, it’s okay!” I said softly, my heart aching to see my friend so shaken, his shoulders quaking with grief and remorse while great tears spilled down his cheeks into his beard.

“Chey’s right, Hagrid, it’s okay. He would’ve found out a way to get in even without you telling him anything. This is Voldemort we’re talking about here.”

“But yeh both could’ve died!” Hagrid sobbed, sniffling loudly. “And don’t say his name.”

“VOLDEMORT!” Harry and I bellowed together, startling Hagrid enough that he stopped crying immediately. “Look Hagrid, we’ve met him and Chey and I’re going to call him by his name,” Harry told him stubbornly before he sighed, his expression softening. “But anyway, please cheer up, we both saved the Stone and now it’s gone, so he can’t use it anymore. Here, have one of our Chocolate Frog, Chey and I’ve got plenty.”

Wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve, Hagrid sniffed again, sighing, “All right….oh yeah, reminds me, I’ve brought yeh both a present.”

“It isn’t another sandwich, is it?” I asked, half-jokingly, smiling softly when Hagrid gave off a weak chuckle in reply. 

“Nah, I got the day off yesterday so I could finish it, special permission from Dumbledore. Probably should’ve sacked me instead….but, anyway, Harry, come sit over here with Chey so yeh can see.”

Harry moved over to sit on the edge of my bed where Hagrid had indicated, settling back into the pillow as I scooted over to give him room, both of us watching as the giant pulled a handsome, leather-covered book from a pocket on his coat. He handed it to the two of us, watching as we flipped it around so we could open it to the first page, which was covered in wizard photographs. And smiling up at the two of us from each picture were our mothers and fathers. 

“I sent owls out ter all yer parents old school friends, askin’ if they had any photos….I knew neither o’ yeh had any, so….d’yeh both like it?”

Neither Harry nor I could find the words to say to expression how grateful we were to him for this, but I’m pretty sure he understood. 

 

By the time Harry and I managed to escape the hospital wing for dinner that night, we had to go down alone; Madam Pomfrey had insisted on one last check up before we left, holding us up longer than necessary. When we stepped into the Great Hall together, it was already full, decked out in Slytherin’s colors of green and silver, celebrating their seventh year of winning the house cup. Up at the front of the hall, just behind the staff table was a giant banner with the Slytherin serpent. 

The usual cheerful chatter that filled the hall ceased immediately as soon as Harry and I arrived, only to be replaced by loud shouts and questions all at once. Harry quickly led the way to the Gryffindor table, ushering me into a seat between Ron and Hermione, both of us trying to ignore the fact that the other students were now trying to get a good look at us over each other’s heads. 

Forunately for us, however, it only took a few minutes more for Dumbledore to arrive, causing another cease in the babble. 

“Another year has come and gone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “And I’m sorry to say, but I must trouble you all with an old man’s babble before you’re able to enjoy this delicious feast. My my, what a wonderful year this has been! I am hopeful all of your heads have been filled this year…be sure to enjoy a nice peaceful summer during which you can get them all nice and empty for next years lessons.

“Now, as I have come to understand, this years house cup needs awarding and the points stand thus far: With two hundred and sixty-two points, Gryffindor stands in fourth place; with three hundred and fifty-two points, Hufflepuff comes in third; at four hundred and twenty-six points, in second is Ravenclaw; and lastly, in first, with four hundred and seventy-two points, stands Slytherin.”

The Slytherin table exploded in loud cheers as they all stomped their feet. Harry and I caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a truly sickening sight. 

“Yes, well done, Slytherin, very well done,” Dumbledore said, clapping politely. “However, there have been recent events that have come to my attention that must be taken into account.”

Silence swept through the room as everyone went still. The smiles spilled from the Slytherins’ faces. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat, “There are just a few last minute points I wish to award. Let me see, ah, yes.

“Firstly, to Mr. Ronald Weasley….”

Ron’s face flushed purple, making looking like a badly sunburned radish. 

“…for the best chess game Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Cheers from our entire house erupted through the hall, practically shaking the enchanted ceiling overhead; it almost looked as though the stars overhead were about to be jarred loose. Percy, with his chest puffed out proudly, could be seen telling the other prefects that that was his little brother. 

Silence slowly fell upon us all again. 

“Secondly, to Miss Hermione Granger…for her use of pure logic in the face of danger, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Hermione hid her face in her arms and when I put a hand on her shoulder, I was surprised to find it shaking, giving me the sneaking suspicious she had just burst into tears. Gryffindor students were all beside themselves with delight; we were a hundred points up!

“Thirdly, to Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Cheyenne Power,” Everyone froze again and I thought I saw a few other students holding their breath, waiting to see what Dumbledore would say, “…for unwavering nerve, outstanding courage, and teamwork, I award Gryffindor house one hundred and ten points.”

The screams and cheers that filled the hall were absolutely deafening. All those who could add up in their minds and still scream their lungs out at the same time knew that Gryffindor was now tied with Slytherin at four hundred and seventy-two points. We were tied for the house cup! If only Dumbledore had given Harry and I just one more point!

Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, which took a couple of minutes as everyone settled back down. 

“There are many different kinds of courage,” he continued with a smile. “And it takes a special kind of bravery to stand up to your enemies, yet another to stand up to your friends. Therefore, I now award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”

If there was someone standing outside the Great Hall at this moment, they would have thought a bomb had gone off inside, so loudly did we Gryffindors scream and shout with delight. I threw my arms around my best friend, screaming out loudly as Ron and Hermione pumped their fists into the air and Neville, white in the face with shock, disappeared under a pile of other students all trying to hug him. He hadn’t ever won a point for Gryffindor, not once. Harry managed to peel himself away from me long enough to point out to Ron and Hermione that Malfoy was staring in horror as we celebrated our win, looking as though he’d just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him. 

“And now, if my calculations are correct,” Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, as even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were now celebrating Slytherin’s downfall, “I do believe we need a change of decoration.”

With a single clap of his hands, the green and silver hangings changed to brilliant scarlet and gold; the huge Slytherin serpant was replaced with a towering Gryffindor lion. Snape was forcing a horrible, half smile as he shook Professor McGonagall’s hand. When he looked up and caught both my and Harry’s eyes, we knew his feelings toward us hadn’t changed an inch. This wasn’t worry for either of us. Once next year rolled around, things would be back to normal, or, rather, as normal as things could be at Hogwarts. 

It was truly the best evening of my and Harry’s lives, better than either of us winning at Quidditch or Christmas, or even us knocking out a mountain troll…I knew neither of us would ever forget tonight. 

 

With everything that had happened, it had completely slipped my mind that our exam results would be out just before we left the school for the summer. I was quite delighted to find, however, that I had received some of the highest points in our class, second only to Hermione, while Ron and Harry had both received passing marks as well. Even Neville managed to scrape by as his outstanding Herbology marks made up for his horrible Potions ones. Goyle, who we had all secretly hoped would have been thrown out due to how horribly moronic he was, managed to have passed, too, to our misfortune. Ah well, I guess we can’t have all we want, now can we?

Before we knew it, all our wardrobes were empty, our trunks were packed and our animals were all safely tucked away in their cages; notes were passed around by the heads of houses reminding underaged students that they were not allowed to perform magic over the holidays, earning a groan from the Weasley twins, who always hoped the teachers would forget to hand these out one day. On the day we were due to board the school train again, Hagrid came to bring us first years back the way we’d come, across the lake in our little boats. Harry and I turned for one last look at our home before we had to leave, squeezing each other’s hands softly as we did, hoping the summer passed by quickly so we could return all the sooner. However, time didn’t seem to want to slow for us today, as we found ourselves boarding the Hogwarts Expression before we could even blink. We talked and laughed as the countryside whizzed by the window, becoming greener and tidier as time passed us by, sharing a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans while we passed by Muggle towns. When we were only a short time away from the train station, we began pulling off our wizard’s robes and replacing them with jackets and coats so we could walk into King’s Cross Station dressed as ordinary Muggles. 

With there only being one way out of the station back into the Muggle world, it took us a little while to get off the platform. The guard standing by the gate was an older wizard who let us out in twos and threes so we wouldn’t attract attention by all bursting through the barrier at once. 

“You three have to come stay at my house this summer,” Ron said as we were all trying to get through the crowd. “I’ll send you all an owl.”

“Thanks, Ron,” I said with a smile and a nod, “Harry and I’ll need something to look forward to this summer.”

We were jostled about as people were trying to get through the barrier into the Muggle world. Some of them called out to us we they passed.

“Bye, Harry, Cheyenne!”

“Have a good summer, Powter!”

“You’re both still famous,” Ron said with a wide grin at the two of us. I snorted softly.

“Here we are, but where we’re going, not so much,” I sighed, shaking my head as the four of us passed through the gateway together. 

“There they are, Mom, right there!”

It was easy to spot Ron’s sister, Ginny, and his mother in the crowd waiting for us on the other side, seeing as their bright red hair stuck out from the rest. 

“It’s Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power!” she squealed. “Mom, look! Can I –“

“Ginny, shh, it’s impolitely to point.”

Mrs. Weasley turned to smile at the four of us.

“Have a busy year?”

“Very much so,” Harry said, nodding. “Thank you so much for the fudge and sweaters, Mrs. Weasley, Chey and I really appreciate it. 

“Oh, think nothing of it dear, it was my pleasure.”

“Both of you ready?”

Harry and I turned to find Uncle Vernon waiting for us a few feet away, his face a deep shade of purple as he glared at the two of us, as though he thought we both had quite the nerve to be walking around with a couple of caged owls in a station full of ordinary people. Nearby, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were watching with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Ah, you must be Harry and Cheyenne’s family!” Mrs. Weasley said, beaming. 

Uncle Vernon eyed her disdainfully, “Hm, in a manner of speaking. “Come along, both of you, we don’t have all day.” And with that, he turned and stalked away. 

Harry and I hung back for a few last minute words with Ron and Hermione. 

“We’ll see you both over the summer, then.”

“I hope you two have a – uh – a good holiday,” Hermione said, staring perplexedly after Uncle Vernon as though she had never quite seen anything like him before. She probably wasn’t used to someone being quite as unpleasant as our uncle and I honestly couldn’t say I blamed her. 

“Don’t worry, we will,” Harry said, grinning at me while I giggled, startling the two of them. “None of them know neither Chey nor I aren’t allowed to perform magic at home. We are going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer….”

I nodded, smiling broadly, “Indeed we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last chapter in the very first installment of the P-Team series. I am so happy I'm finally able to get this up and I would like to thank all my readers and followers for being so very patient with me, I am really grateful to all of you for sticking with this story after so long and continuing to read it. You're all so awesome for sticking with this like you have, thank you very much, I hope you've enjoyed the story, leave comments for me, I appreciate anything helpful, good or bad, that will help me improve my stories. The second part to this should be up shortly and I hope you'll all continue reading.
> 
> I hope you all have a very Happy New Year, good luck and fortunate to all of you in the coming year. 
> 
> ~ScarletMarieLeaf


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